Falling Star
by Animalcrunch12
Summary: After spending a year away and still reeling from her failure at MIT, Blossom Bellum returns to Townsville. Dealing with the repercussion of her actions before she left, a night at the lake with her former friends turns into something more. Now with mysterious powers and a long list of questions towards the supernatural essence of Townsville, they must solve a century old mystery.
1. The Return

_"Can you believe how hot it is out there, Townsville? With the recent record-breaking heatwave, it seems like there's no end in sight to this heat. It's ridiculous—"_

Blossom quickly changed the radio station, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of her as the car radio played a popular pop song. She mouthed the words to herself in silence, dabbing away the sweat in which was formulating on her forehead since the radio show host made her aware of just how hot Townsville was. Growing up, heatwaves were an ordinary occurrence during the summertime—primarily in August, which was the month they were in. She did not think living in the northeast would weaken her tolerance for the heat, yet, here she was, growing more drenched with sweat as her thighs were sticking to the cream-colored leather of her car seat from the great amount of moisture collecting from her skin.

Her fingers fiddled with the air conditioning of her car, turning it up to the highest degree of coolness. She felt instant relief as the cold air filled the cramp space of her compact car. Her rose-colored eyes lingered on the boxes in her backseat, sighing to herself before she adjusted her rear-view mirror.

She felt her stomach begin to turn when a large road sign notified her about entering the city limits of Townsville came in view. After a two day trip across the country from Fort Lauderdale to her hometown, Blossom did not visualize how daunting it would feel to be back.

To have to face everything she ran away from.

She combed a free hand through her long hair, keeping the other hand on the steering wheel, recognizing certain landmarks of the small town.

Townsville was located on the outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona. It surrounded by a vast, arid desert land, making the city seem closed off from the rest of the world—or at least, that was how Blossom always felt. There were two high schools, one community college, three grocery stores, and one salon. The biggest attraction in town was city hall or Lake Canem Loquentes. It was a quaint place to see in passing but growing up and not knowing anything else could make a person restless.

It was for that reason why Blossom left. She knew there had to be more to the world than Townsville.

Yet, here she was returning, feeling like a failure. The redhead determined it was because she would have to face the music sooner than later. The past would pop up again and remind her of the mistake she made before leaving. If only she could go back and change everything. Then Blossom would not have to feel like an outsider in a town she was born and raised in for the first eighteen years of her life.

When the neon sign for Otto's Diner became visible in the distance, Blossom knew there was no turning back anymore. She was officially back in Townsville.

She let out a tight breath the redhead did not know she was holding in, loosening the tension in her shoulders. Ten minutes in and nothing bad has happened yet. Perhaps she does not have anything worry about.

 _Cluck… Cluck… Cluck…_

Blossom widened her eyes at the loud noise her car was making, acutely taking notice of the spike in heat within the car. She pressed the off button for the air conditioning and turned it back on, putting a free hand against the vent but felt nothing except the dull, hot air from the outside.

"Great," Blossom grumbled to herself, holding a tight grip on her steering wheel. Townsville was under the worst heatwave in years and she no longer had air conditioning in her car. She thought about rolling down the windows to gain some wind but chose against it. Just one peek of her signature orange hair flying out the window and everyone would know she was back.

Instead, she contained herself in the hot box that was her car, constantly wiping away the sweat accumulating on her face with each minute, until she reached her home.

Where Blossom lived was completely different from the rest of the population of Townsville. Most citizens were apart of the middle to lower class while the redhead was apart of the slim wealthy to upper-middle class who lived in the town. With her mother working as the political adviser for a congressman in Phoenix, Blossom knew of the great amount of privilege she grew up in. Most of her old friends had to get jobs during high school to help support their families while Blossom did not learn how to do laundry until she got to MIT.

A remote one-lane road passing through most of the town led to her neighborhood. It was existentially a long, one-way road, houses lining the border until the street ended with the wealthiest house in the city—Morbucks Manor. Being the only place with greenery other than cacti, the road was accompanied by a light pine forest leading to Lake Canem Loquentes, resulting in the neighborhood being dubbed as "The Rich Pines" by those who did not live there. The home she and her mother occupied was near the middle of the long road, with a ten-minute walking distance from any neighbors and a view of the pine forest across the street.

Their house was a modest two-story home, painted a cream color and was adorned with a wrap-around patio. A porch swing hung by the front door, an area Blossom sat outside on too many times to count while studying for exams or doing homework.

Once in the house, guests were greeted with a foyer leading to either the modern furniture in the living room on the left or on the right, the open space of their kitchen which contained a large granite breakfast bar in the middle of it. Then there was a nook that could be found in the back of the kitchen, where Blossom and her mother consumed most of their meals together, soaking in the sun shining in from the large windows in the room.

The second floor was occupied by three bedrooms—hers, her mother's, and a guest—and two bathrooms. Family photos, diplomas, and certificates adorned the walls of the hallway.

Blossom inhaled a breath, pulling into the driveway of her home. Parking the car and taking the keys out, the redhead stared at the sleek, black _Mercedes_ sitting in front of her.

Her mother was not pleased to hear about Blossom's need to return. She felt her daughter was wasting the opportunity given to her but reluctantly agreed to Blossom's plan to return for the semester. The redhead did have to promise it would only be for one semester and that was it. She was not sure what her mother would do if she extended her stay but Blossom was not going to test her luck.

One semester was enough time.

She hoped.

She slowly unbuckled her seatbelt, opening the door to her car. Stepping out, Blossom was met with the dry air. There was not a single sign of wind or a breeze in sight. She shut the door, fanning herself as she walked to the front door. Sticking her keys into the door, the redhead entered her childhood home, greeted by the refreshing air conditioning and melancholic nostalgia. She sucked in the smell of cofee and vanilla their house has acquired over the years, feeling comfort in an instant.

"Mom?" Blossom called out, looking into the kitchen but finding it empty. "I'm home."

"Blossom?"

She heard the click-clacking of her mother's heels on the hardwoods floor from above. Her mom stopped at the top of the staircase, smiling from the excitement of seeing her daughter for the first time in a year. She quickly strutted down the steps, opening her arms widely to wrap them around Blossom.

"My baby," she cooed. "I've missed you."

Blossom smiled softly, holding her tightly, burrowing her face in her mother's orange curls. "I've missed you too," she breathed, taking in her mother's signature scent. _Chanel No. 5_ mixed with lavender shampoo.

Her mom broke the hug, taking a step back and lifting Blossom's chin up, looking at her with a critical eye, "You've lost weight. I can see it in your face"

Blossom shifted, rubbing her arms out of nervousness. She had lost about fifteen pounds in the past six months and she was not proud. The redhead was already small to begin with—she has been a size three since the age of fifteen—but Blossom at least looked healthy. Now she cringed every time she looked in the mirror, her ribcage standing out profoundly.

"I know."

"Are you eating? If you're not, I know a specialist—"

"I'm eating, mom," Blossom sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's just… stress, you know? It's why I needed a mental break this semester."

She nodded, removing her hand from Blossom's face, "Of course."

The two redheads stared at each other in silence, cautiously avoiding the topic on Blossom's return. She could tell her mother was biting her tongue from making a comment on how she was wasting her potential being back here. How Blossom was jeopardizing her future.

Little did her mom know, Blossom could no longer have the future they once dreamed of for her.

Blossom averted her gaze, gesturing towards the door, "I should get my stuff from the car."

"Do you need my help?"

"I got it," she responded, opening the door and feeling the coolness of the air conditioning dissipating from her body again, becoming overheated again. Blossom tossed a look back at her mom before going back outside, "But thank you."

She heard her mom give a reply but Blossom was already out the door. Looking down the road as she walked back to her car, the redhead hoped to herself that she made the right decision.

She hoped she was not making a mistake again.

* * *

Her mom did not change a single thing in her room. Her desk remained empty from Blossom taking everything to MIT. Photos from experiences throughout high school were still taped to her wall despite no longer having any form of a relationship with any of the people in them with her. Even the soft pink comforter she left as a disarray on her bed was in the same position it was left in. It was like time stood still.

Like she never got out of Townsville.

Since coming back three days ago, Blossom has gotten well-acquainted with her room again—specifically, her bed. All she has done was binge watch documentaries on _Netflix_ for the past seventy-two hours. The only times she came out of her room was to use the bathroom or eat. Blossom could tell her mother was concerned, pushing her to eat more during dinner and subtly asking her daughter about any plans for the day. She would respond to her mother with a new list of documentaries she was going to watch, frustrating the elder redhead greatly.

Twenty minutes into a film about the food industry and snuggling herself comfortabley in her bed, Blossom's door opened widely and her mother entered the room. She went for the window first, drawing the curtains open and allowing the bright Arizona sun into the redhead's room. Blossom blinked rapidly to adjust to the sunlight, not having contact with it in the past three days—it was no wonder she was so pale. Her mother then faced her bed, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Blossom, I'm trying to be supportive of you but I can't do it if you're going to be hiding out in your room for the next five months," her mom explained.

Blossom rubbed the grain out of eyes, sitting up, "Mom, you know I—"

"Do you think you can get the groceries for me?" she interrupted as Blossom froze at the question. The last thing she wanted to do was go into town.

"Um…"

"Baby, please," her mom pleaded, taking a seat on Blossom's bed. "At least get out of the house for once."

Blossom sighed to herself, "Okay… but can I take your car? The AC stopped working in mine."

Her mom chuckled lightly, standing up, "As much as I love you, Blossom. I'm going to say no," she smiled. "Besides, you can spend more time out of the house by taking it to the mechanics."

"But…" the redhead trailed off, accepting defeat as her mother left the room.

She threw her covers back, stepping out of her bed and heading for her closet. Her face grimaced at the large amount of winter clothing occupying the space due to her time at MIT. Blossom decided on a pair of light-washed jean shorts and a white spaghetti-strap. She tied her hair back into a tight ponytail—the end of it hitting her mid-back—and put on a little mascara and concealer to hide her dark circles. Staring into the mirror hanging on the back of her door, the redhead felt a strange sense of deja vu, quickly realizing this was her basic outfit all throughout high school. Tank top, shorts, and a ponytail.

The only thing missing was the red ribbon she used to use to form a bow. The ribbon she discarded when she left, deciding it would bring too many memories.

She could feel her skin become irritable as her mind crept through the old memories. Memories she would like to forget.

Blossom ignored the strong urge to scratch her arms, grabbing the keys to her car and heading down the stairs. On the bottom floor, she popped her head into the kitchen, finding her mother reading the newspaper, a cup of coffee in hand. She smiled fondly at her daughter, proud that Blossom followed through with the decision in such a timely manner.

"Do you have a grocery list?" Blossom questioned, leaning forward on the opposite side of the granite counter. Her mom nodded, turning around to open a drawer and pulling out a notepad. She ripped out the top page, handing it to Blossom. The redhead quickly read over the list, finding most of the items being basic necessities—milk, cheese, bread, etc. Her rose-colored eyes meeting her mom's, "I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Take as much time as you need," her mom waved off, resuming her reading of the newspaper. It was her mother's subtle way of saying she was dismissed.

Blossom inhaled sharply, exiting the house. She was not happy about being back out in the heat again. Furthermore, the need to drive in the prominent hotness of her car. Pulling out of the driveway, the redhead searched up the nearest mechanic since Townsville did not have one. The closest one was five minutes out of city's limits, called _Jojo's Auto Repair_. Not finding any other doable options, Blossom selected the establishment, gaining access to directions from her phone.

* * *

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows upon arriving at the mechanics. There were no cars in the dusty parking lot other than a cherry-red _Ford_ truck she could tell dated well past the last two decades—maybe even more. Nonetheless, she had to get some assistance due to anything being better than spending any more time in the inferno that was her car, especially with the heatwave not showing any sign of giving up.

She pushed against the door of the office to the mechanics, noting the smudges and fingerprints dignifying the glass of the door. A bell chimed above her as Blossom was greeted by an empty space but was instantly grateful the place had air conditioning.

Two worn out chairs sat next to the window, with a coffee table separating them with month-old auto magazines spread across the wooden surface. A counter divided the small room in half, one half where customers were allowed to occupy themselves and the other side for the mechanics to complete paperwork.

She eyed the opened door leading to the garage, peering as much as she could to see any signs of life.

"Hello?" Blossom called out.

"I'll be right there," she heard being announced by a deep voice coming from the garage.

Blossom shifted her weight, folding her arms while waiting. She glanced around the office once again, noticing a photo on the back wall. It portrayed a short, dark-haired man proudly standing by the tin sign with shop's name on it that stood out in front of the shop. A small engravement on the picture frame stating the photo was taken on November the eighteenth, nineteen ninety-eight.

Her eyes quickly averted to the person entering the room. He was at least six-feet tall, wearing a gray jumpsuit which acquired various grease stains, and had a subtle streak of oil on his cheek. His ruby-colored eyes fixated on the rag in his hands as he wiped away any filth, the loose strands of his scarlet hair cascading over his face. The name tag stitched on the fabric of his clothing indicated his name was Brick.

Once he was satisfied with his cleanliness, he put the rag down on the counter, grabbing a notepad and looking up, "How can I help…" His eyebrow shot up when making eye contact with her, a half smile formulating on his face, " _You_?"

"The AC in my car is busted," she explained, laying her folded arms on the cool, plastic counter. "And as you can tell from the recent weather we're having, it can be pretty unbearable."

"I bet," he chuckled, running a hand through his wavy hair. It was cut short on the sides but an inch or two longer on top. He also had a slightly detectable accent to which Blossom could not quite pinpoint. His words came out a bit slower with drawl, stressing the last vowels of his words, "What car model do you have?"

"1997 _Volkswagen Beetle_."

He cringed a little as she informed him, writing down the model and some other things Blossom could not comprehend when she attempted to read off of the notepad since she did not know anything about cars. "Please tell me that you don't have those ridiculous eyelash thingys on the headlights."

"No."

"Oh thank god—"

"But it is painted a pale pink," Blossom grinned.

The man exhaled loudly, meeting her eyes again, "Not really helping yourself, are you?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "If it's too much of a problem, I can try finding another mechanic who will find my car to be pretty cute."

"Trust me," he snorted. "No one is going to find it cute."

"So you do want me to find another mechanic to challenge your word?" Blossom inquired, pointing back at the door over her shoulder, "I could also get them to fix my car," she teased.

The redhead raised both of his eyebrows, the crooked smile on his face never once being removed, "You could but no one else is going to do a better job than I will."

"Oh really?"

He nodded, "Trust me. I'm the best mechanic within a fifty-mile radius."

"Alright. Then I have to go with your word," she grinned.

"Good." His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds longer than necessary before moving them down to the notepad laying on the counter, "And who do I have the pleasure of fixing their AC?"

"Blossom Bellum."

" _Bellum_?" he questioned, his amused expression fading away while writing her name down on the sheet of paper and glancing back up at her, pointing his pencil at her, "So you must be Sara Bellum's infamous daughter?"

"Yup," she nodded with slight hesitation.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Yale or something?"

"MIT… I'm supposed to be at MIT," Blossom trailed off.

He nodded, not displaying much interest in the topic, pushing the pencil behind his ear, "I should have known you were Sara's daughter. The orange hair is a dead ringer."

"I guess," she muttered. Blossom folded her eyebrows, wondering how he knew this. "Wait. How do you know about my mom?"

"Everyone in Townsville knows everyone," he explained. "Did you forget about that at MIT?"

"No," Blossom said tightly. "I just… I've never seen you before."

"Ah." He ripped the recently written on paper out of the notepad, "I guess that statement is merely a fallacy now."

"It might be but it still doesn't explain why I've never seen you before."

"Well sweetheart, I'm guessing you never had to bother noticing a guy like me," the redhead shrugged off.

Blossom pursed her lips at the statement, sliding her arms off the counter and returning them to her sides, "Yeah… you're right."

For a brief second, the mechanic's face was unreadable, peering deeply into Blossom's rose-colored eyes before the corner of his mouth turned upward. He stuck out his hand towards her, "I'm Brick Jojo, by the way."

Blossom slowly accepted his hand, feeling the rough texture but strongness of his skin as they briefly shaked hands, "Jojo? You own this place?"

"My foster dad does," Brick revealed, frowning, gesturing to the photo she was looking at a few minutes ago. "That's him, right there." He then cleared his throat, grabbing the piece of paper he tore out, "I should get to work on your precious pink car."

Blossom chuckled lightly at him, handing over her keys as her fingers grazed along the palm of his hand as she did this. She quickly retrieved her arm to her side, feeling her cheeks grow a little red. At least she could blame it on the heat. "Treat her right, okay?"

"If it makes you feel better, I will," he grinned, heading into the garage. "But only for you," she heard him call out once more before hearing the loud opening of the garage doors. Blossom smiled to herself, taking a seat in the least distorted chair and picking up one of the automobile magazines. At least she could gain some sort of knowledge from this experience.

Her eyes glanced back up at the door to the garage at the thought for a split second, diverting back to an article about electric cars, the smile of her face becoming more pronounced.

* * *

Cranking up the air conditioning in her car to the fullest degree, Blossom felt her body ease from any tension she has had since coming back to Townsville as she made her way over to one of the three grocery stores in the town.

Her exchange with Brick after him fixing her car was shorter than she would have liked since another customer showed up ten minutes before he finished, which meant he was in a rush with her transaction. She could not help feeling like there was something he wanted to say to her but he neglected to do so, simply handing her the bill and moving on to the other customer. Feeling a little bit generous, Blossom left a pretty sizable tip for him.

The thought of their interaction made her forget about the problems she had in Townsville. Even if she knew it was fleeting feeling and she would not ever see him again—if Blossom has never seen him before today, then she knew their inner circles do not mix.

Plus, the redhead did not even have an inner circle for them to ever collide into each other again.

Turning into the parking lot of Ralph's grocery and finding a spot to park, Blossom focused her mind on her mother's grocery list and not the disappointment of not seeing a stranger again.

She was pleased to enter and see the aisles were bare from people. Grabbing a shopping cart, Blossom strolled down each aisle, checking off the items on her mother's list without any cares.

Perhaps getting out the house was what she needed. Today was the first time she has felt good about being back in town. Blossom noted to herself she may need to thank her mom for pushing her to go out.

Glancing over the list two more times, the redhead found she was finished shopping and headed for the checkout section. Due to the lack of customers, there were only two lanes open; her opting with the one to her right. Pushing her cart down the slim aisle, Blossom placed her groceries on the converter belt.

Once done, she moved her cart up, smiling brightly at the female cashier who was facing towards the other worker, the two talking freely, as her back faced Blossom.

"Aye, you got a customer," a gruff male voice stated. In the back of her mind, Blossom told herself she has heard the exact voice before but could not put her finger on it.

"Duty calls."

That voice.

That voice the redhead knew all too well. The smile on her face rapidly dissolved as her face reddened. The cashier turned around, their light green eyes surveying the conveyer belt of groceries. "Hey, how are you…" Her eyes shifted to the customer in front her, her professional demeanor disappearing. The lines of her face expressing a hard scowl, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Blossom blinked at her in response, surprised her reaction was not actually harsher. As she did this, the redhead took in the appearance of one of her former best friends.

Her raven-colored hair was still chopped in a blunt bob, ending at her jawline. The light green shade of her eyes complimented her olive skin tone she acquired from her Italian heritage. She held a great amount of intimidation from her Amazonian height, falling short of being six feet tall by one or two inches.

She was still the effortless beauty Blossom knew she was, despite her former friend's dismissive behavior towards the subject. Even in the polyester slime green polo shirt and khaki pants that were the signature Ralph's grocery store uniform, she was beautiful.

Blossom's eyes lingered on the nametag pinned to the polo shirt she wore, processing the confirmation of this was not her imagination at works.

This was Buttercup actually standing right before her and handling her groceries.

"Um…"

"Forget it, I don't even want to know," Buttercup dismissed, beginning the process of ringing up the items Blossom selected.

Blossom tossed her eyes around everywhere in the store except Buttercup's line of vision, her body getting uneasy from the tension radiating off of her former friend.

"So… when did you start working here?" Blossom asked to break the silence between them, an attempt at a slight chance of peace. "What happened to the internship at city hall?"

"Didn't pay shit," she grumbled, sending daggers at the redhead as she scanned over a gallon of milk's price tag. "Some of us aren't as lucky to never have to work."

"Oh."

Blossom could not muster another response, unable to speak to one of the few people she shared everything with. Her eyes fell to the white _Vans_ she was wearing, finding them to be the most interesting thing in the world, listening to Buttercup scan the rest of her items.

"That will be a hundred and seventeen dollars," Buttercup said with disattachment, folding her arms as Blossom swiped her card. The cashier grabbed the long receipt the register printed out, holding it out for Blossom to grab. The redhead reached out for it, pulling but Buttercup kept a firm hold on it, narrowing her eyes at the pink-eyed girl, "If you're in town, the least you could do, is go see Bubbles. For some reason, she'll be happy to see your backstabbing face."

She eased her grip, letting the receipt fall into Blossom's hand. The redhead nodded slowly, surprised by Buttercup's suggestion. She was left under the assumption Bubbles would treat her the same as the dark-haired girl. "I'll try."

"Whatever," Buttercup dismissed with venom, glaring at Blossom as she pushed her cart towards the exit.

Her rose-colored eyes landed on the other cashier in the store, instantly realizing why the voice sounded so familiar when she saw his sandy brown hair and freckled face.

It was Mitch Mitchellson.

She opened her mouth to say something but decided not to since she and Mitch were never close. They would only associate themselves with each other out of having a similar friend group. Instead, the redhead continued pushing her cart, exiting the store and ignoring the shouting of Mitch's question of whether he just saw Blossom Bellum back in Townsville.

She sighed to herself, answering the question for him in her head.

 _Yes. Yes, he just did._

* * *

Stepping into Otto's Diner initiated numerous amounts of flashbacks for Blossom. Her eyes drifted to the barstools at the diner's corners, remembering the times she and Bubbles spent afternoons studying while drinking milkshakes together. To the jukebox where Buttercup would replay the same song to annoy the other customers to leave so they could get the entire place to themselves. The back booth their group would occupy every Friday night and discussed their week over burgers and fries.

It was the same place where Blossom told them she was leaving for MIT, creating much disapproval from the group and an outraged Buttercup.

It was a night the redhead has tried to stop reliving but could not go a day or two without thinking about. The thought of wanting to change things never fled her mind.

"Hi, welcome to Otto's—Oh my god!" A female exclaimed from the behind the counter, her eyes widened in surprised before rushing over to Blossom and tackling her into a bear hug. "You're back! You're really back!"

Blossom returned the hug, smiling softly. At least Bubbles was not upset anymore. "Yes, I am."

The blonde pulled back, taking in Blossom's appearance as the redhead did the same.

Bubbles was in her retro waitress uniform—baby blue fabric and a white apron—which has become a second skin for her since she has been working at the diner since sophomore year of high school. Her platinum blonde hair curled into perfection and held tightly by hair ties to create her infamous pigtails. She still had not lost the roundness in her face, giving her a youthful appearance face wise, while her body was more curvaceous. Her skin was a slight darker shade of tan than Blossom remembered but she also kept in mind of Bubbles tanning very easily due to her dad being of Mexican descent. Both of her dimples were easily recognizable as she smiled at her. The redhead determined Bubbles has yet to lose her sweetness that could never be spoiled.

She watched as Bubbles chewed down on her bottom lip, a key sign the blonde had something to say but did not want to be rude. Blossom arched an eyebrow, tilting her head, "What is it, Bubs?"

Bubbles blinked out of the trance she was under, smiling weakly, "It's just… You're super thin, Blossom."

"I know," the redhead sighed to herself, gazing at the checkered tiling of the restaurant. "It's stress. That's all."

"You sure?"

"Yes…" She glanced up, meeting Bubbles' icy blue eyes, the corners of her mouth turning upward, "Plus, I haven't had a famous Otto's cheeseburger in over a year. If I have a couple of those, I'll be back to my normal weight in no time."

Bubbles grinned widely at her, grabbing her notepad from her apron pocket, clicking the pen that was attached to it. "If I remember correctly, you like avocados and tomatoes on your burger?"

"Correct."

"Cheese fries?"

"My ultimate weakness."

"And strawberry milkshake?"

"With sprinkles and whipped cream on top."

"Perfect," Bubbles cheered, clicking her pen again and sliding her notepad into her apron pocket. "I was about to go on my lunch break too, so I'll just eat with you."

"Sounds good," the redhead smiled, sliding into one of the vinyl booths as Bubbles went into the kitchen.

As Blossom waited, she felt herself being transported back in time to a year ago. Buttercup's hard scowl and throwing a basket of fries to the ground out of rage. Bubbles covering her face to mask the tears sprouting from her eyes. The redhead's incapable to calm the situation as Buttercup ended all ties to her, beckoning the entire group should abandon her since Blossom was now a traitor. Each one exiting the booth, never meeting her eyes as they did this.

Until Blossom was the only one in the booth—and the entire restaurant—left choking back the lump in her throat, staring out the window to watch her friends leave, thinking she was betraying them.

The chiming of the diner's door brought her out of the haunting memory, jumping back from being startled. Her face reddened despite no one noticing her action as she cowered more into the booth, focusing her attention out the diner's window like she did on that very Friday night.

Across the street was the abandoned candy factory which jump-started Townsville's economy in the nineteenth century. It was quite an eyesore for everyone since the place has not been in use for thirty years now as the structure has decayed to just a shell of the business' former glory. The chain fence surrounding it has pretty much been destroyed in the process also, allowing anyone to trespass if they wanted to.

Rumor has it, inside the crumbling foundation of the factory, was the headquarters for all gang activity in the town. Mainly the Gangreen Gang. While it has never been confirmed, Blossom has always suspected it was true.

She stared at the large industrial sign used to notify tourists of the local establishment. Her eyes trailed down to the ground when a shadowy figure appeared at the bottom of the pole. Blossom narrowed her eyes, making sure she was not hallucinating. The dark figure stared directly at her through the window, smiling wickedly and motioning for her to join him.

Blossom could not ignore the enticement in which was overpowering her body. She could hear an ominous whisper in her ear, the repetition of her name being said over and over again. The hairs on the back of her neck were raised as goosebumps rose all over her body. Blossom did not notice however as she was too hypnotized by the figure to focus on anything that was not it. She felt herself slowly inch over to the end of the booth, one foot out the aisle, preparing herself to walk across the street.

"Alright, one cheeseburger, cheese fries, and a strawberry milkshake," Bubbles announced, snapping Blossom out of the trance she was under, placing her food on the table in front of her. The blonde slid into the booth across from her, along with a large Caesar salad. The blonde's smile fading from her face as she noticed Blossom's perplexed expression. "Everything alright?"

"What?" Blossom blinked, staring blankly at Bubbles before processing what the blonde had asked, still spooked from what she just saw. The redhead nodded furiously, stabbing one of her fries with a fork, "Yeah, I just…" Her eyes glanced out the window, searching for the shadowy figure but found it was now gone. She returned her gaze to Bubbles, ignoring what the redhead thought she saw. She must have been hallucinating after all. "I just cannot believe I'm here again. With you, I mean… I thought you hated me."

Bubbles giggled to herself, "I could never hate you, Blossom."

"It didn't seem like that the last time we were here," Blossom mumbled, stirring her milkshake.

"Oh…" the blonde frowned, lowering her gaze to the salad in front of her. "Um… I should apologize for that night. It was just the heat of the moment and… You should not have been left here alone. I'm sorry."

"Thanks, Bubs," the redhead smiled softly. "I should apologize too."

"For what? Trying to chase after your future?" Bubbles questioned. "You did nothing wrong and it was wrong of us to hold it against you."

"I mean, there was the pact," she recalled.

The pact was a promise Blossom made with Buttercup, Bubbles and the others about staying in Townsville until they found a way to all leave together. To find success as a team.

Blossom destroyed the idea the day she accepted admission to MIT and has paid for her single selfish decision since. The redhead could not help believing she was better off not leave. To stay with friends and go along with the pact they made.

Especially with everything that happened at MIT.

"Blossom. None of us truly believed you were going to stay here with us. Only you and Buttercup were under the illusion that it will work," the blonde confessed. "If anyone was going to get out of here, it was going to be you."

"I… I… So the others, they do not hate me?"

"Nope. It's just Buttercup, but that's because she's notorious for holding grudges," Bubbles explained. "But I do think she misses you."

"Just too much pride to admit it?"

"Yup," Bubbles sighed lightheartedly. "As you can see, nothing changes here in Townsville."

"I'm starting to realize that again," the redhead grinned, taking a large bite of her burger.

"You know, you should come to the get together we're having at the lake on Friday."

"You're not spending Friday night here?" Blossom asked. "Maybe there is one thing that changed."

The blonde smiled sheepishly at her, "Actually, we are going to eat here first and then head out to the lake, but it's just going to be the four of us and I figured it would be awkward to share a table with Buttercup."

"You're right."

"At the lake, there will be more people," Bubbles continued. "At least, that's what Buttercup told me."

Blossom nodded, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin, "I'll think about it."

"Think about it? What's there to think about?"

"Buttercup and her hostility."

"Oh… well, I think the first step in fixing things is giving a push."

Blossom narrowed her eyes at the blonde, considering her advice. The last thing the redhead wanted to do was ruffle some feathers. She has only been back for less than a week and Blossom did not want to be back in the thick of the drama already.

"We'll see."

* * *

Lounging on her couch with a bowl of kettle corn, Blossom flipped through the channels on the TV in her living room. She sighed to herself, not finding anything interesting to watch, settling on a rerun of _Friends_ she has seen before. Her eyes stared blankly at the television but she did not taking in anything that was happening in the storyline playing out in front of her, lost in a daze on wondering if this was what she really wanted.

To isolate herself from everyone like she did over the summer.

She did not get a chance to make a decision as her mom stood in front of the television, hands on her hips and staring down at Blossom on the couch. Her mom was dressed in a silk, form-fitting black dress. Her orange curls tucked into an elegant bun, letting Blossom know that she was going out for a formal dinner or event that evening.

"Blossom," she sighed, tapping her heel ever-so-slightly against the wood flooring. "Is this how you're going to spend your Friday night? Why don't you go to Otto's Diner for old time sake?"

"I—"

"I just don't want you to become a recluse, honey. I know it is hard to be mentally exhausted but you have to let yourself have some fun," her mom explained. "I'm really concerned that you're just going to waste your time here."

"I'm… I'm not," the redhead defended, sitting up. "I'm actually going to go out with Bubbles tonight," Blossom said quickly, not realizing it came out of her mouth until she said it.

Her mom smiled at her, grabbing her clutch off the coffee table in the room, "Great. I'm going to be at a gala in Phoenix until midnight."

"Alright, have fun."

"You too, sweetheart," her mom whispered, leaning over to kiss Blossom's forehead before heading out the door.

Glancing at the television and seeing one character going on a rant about the definition of what a "break" is, Blossom placed the bowl of kettle corn on the coffee table and tossed the blanket to the side. Rising from the couch, she headed up to her room to change out of the sweatpants and old North Townsville High gym shirt she wore.

Blossom decided to wear a pair of light-washed jeans with rips at the knees and a turquoise off-the-shoulder blouse. She swiftly brushed her hair before tucking a loose strand behind her left ear. Staring at herself in the mirror, the redhead took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself. "I can totally do this."

She flicked off the light switch in her room, heading downstairs, and grabbing the keys to her car and wallet from the table in their foyer. Upon exiting the house, Blossom locked the door behind her and entered her car.

Once on the road, thoughts of just driving around aimlessly for the night flooded through her mind. If she did that, Blossom would not have to deal with the wrath of Buttercup. Or have to face the other half of their group. She thought about driving to the _McDonald's_ which was ten miles out from town and grab a _McFlurry_ or maybe some fries. Then there was the movie theater in Citiesville that was about an hour away. The thought of driving to Jojo's auto repair raced through her mind for a split second before she turned down the idea.

In the process of figuring out on what to do, Blossom did not realize she subconsciously drove to a destination. One the redhead knew by heart from traveling to so many times.

 _Lake Canem Loquentes._

Taking the parking spot next to the blue _Honda Civic_ she knew was owned by Bubbles and a motorbike she did not recognize, Blossom mentally prepared herself for the evening. She reminded herself of Bubbles' claims of everyone else not hating her. There was a chance she still had some friends.

She hesitantly unbuckled her seatbelt and then turned off her car. Blossom slowly opened her door, greeted by a stifling gust of hot, dry air. The heatwave was still in full effect despite the lack of the sun to add another layer of heat. She walked down the gravel path to the lake. Blossom stopped upon reaching the end of the walk, staring out at the moonlight shimmering onto the dark waters of the lake. Even if she spent the majority of her weekends here, the sight never ceased to leave her in awe of it's beauty.

"Blossom!" The redhead glanced down to where everyone collected by the shore of the lake, seeing Bubbles waving her arm at her before rushing over to her side. "I'm so glad you decided to come."

Blossom smiled weakly at the blonde, "That's reassuring…" The smile faded as she glanced over to the others who she could not make out due to the dim lighting. "Does Buttercup know…"

"Yeah. I told her over dinner," the blonde explained, looping her arm around Blossom's and walking her over to the group of people. "She wasn't exactly psyched about it."

"I should stay out of her way?"

"Oh, definitely," Bubbles nodded.

Blossom glanced at her, noticing the wool sweater the blonde was wearing, "Bubs. Are you really wearing a sweater in the middle of a heatwave?"

"Yeah. I'm kind of chilly," she confessed, shivering a little at the mention of her temperature.

The redhead arched an eyebrow at her, "That's strange. Maybe you're getting sick or something."

"Oh god, I hope not. I have a double shift tomorrow," Bubbles replied, unlinking her arm from Blossom as they reached the shore where everyone else stood. The redhead glanced at the others, able to see their faces now.

Buttercup was setting up some sort of sound system to play music, cursing to herself, while two males chatted animatedly next to her. She instantly recognized their faces, identifying them as Butch and Boomer.

Boomer had let his blond hair grow out, now reaching his shoulders. It made him seem more grown up to Blossom. While Butch had cut the long curly locks he had all throughout high school into more of a clean cut. Blossom was surprised to see him there since an email she received from her mom a month after leaving, stated Butch had enlisted for the Navy according to Fuzzy, his dad.

There was another male by the shore, lighting up a cigarette. She figured the person was Ace Copular due to the slim frame and the nasty habit of smoking. He was one of Buttercup's close friends despite everyones' dislike towards the idea—it also made the redhead believe Buttercup had a crush on him.

Then there was a group of four girls, standing in a circle, laughing at something being said. Blossom's rose-colored eyes narrowing at the auburn curls one of the girls' possessed. With that clue, she quickly figured out who the other girls were. Her face contoured in shock, turning to Bubbles and nudging the blonde's arm.

"Why is Princess Morbucks and the punks here?" Blossom whispered.

"I know. It seems super weird," she said quietly back. "But Buttercup and Princess have gotten pretty close after you left. And as you know, wherever Princess goes, the punks follow."

"Buttercup and Princess? I thought they hated each other?"

"I did too, but Buttercup says Princess is just misunderstood."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows in disbelief. She did not understand how Buttercup could easily forgive Princess over their bitter rivalry since the first grade, in just one year.

"I find this hard to believe."

"Trust me, I do too at times, but Princess has been pretty cool since…"

The blonde trailed off, biting her lip and removing her gaze from Blossom. The gears in Blossom's mind clicking as to what Bubbles was about to say.

"Since she replaced me?"

"Replaced is a strong word."

"It's fine, Bubs," the redhead sighed. "I left. I'm the one who abandoned my friendships. I would be a fool to think all of you would spend your time waiting and hoping for me to return and resume our friendship."

"Blossom…"

"I just wish you did though," Blossom muttered. "It would make everything a whole lot easier."

"Being back in town?"

Blossom darted her eyes to the blonde and then to Princess and punks. "Yeah…" she lied.

From what Blossom could see, Princess had lost some weight but still kept the curves in which helped her become _Instagram_ famous. Her curls tighter than ever and gold jewelry decorated every inch possible on her body. She looked happier than Blossom could ever remember.

Blossom wondered if it had to do with her new friendships.

The punks were a group of three girls who Blossom, Buttercup, and Bubbles attended high school with. Berserk Sanchez, Brat Fatale, and Brute Boogieman.

Berserk came to Townsville during their freshmem year of high school after immigrating from Venezuela. Originally a brunette, she decided to dye her hair a bright orange sophomore year after a long shift at Sedusa's Salon. The electric color had a stark contrast against the Latina's mocha skin and hot pink eyes. However, her hair color made her easily recognizable from anyone else. Other than her looks, Berserk was known for her fiery temper and motor-mouth. It was for those reasons, Blossom tended to avoid Berserk whenever she could.

Having been born in Texas, Brat had moved to Townsville due to her mom getting a job transfer to manage the town's bank. The blonde still possessed a thick southern accent and wore cowboy boots for any occasion. Her skin seemed lighter than snow and had blue eyes that were comparable to the color of the ocean. It was her appearance to which made Brat a popular choice among Blossom's former male classmates. Then they got acquainted with Brat's frequent habit of whining and dropped her within the next week.

Brute was born in Townsville but moved away for a good five years before coming back. Her hazel green eyes beautifully stood out against her chocolate skin tone. She was known for having different hairstyles each week—today, she sported space buns which had forest green streaks mixing in with her natural shade of charcoal hair. Unlike the other two, Blossom did not know much about Brute other than she was the most tolerable considering the redhead has seen her socialize with other people who were not Brat, Berserk, or Princess. She had the ability to float amongst groups, something the other two could not do.

The reason they were referred to as the punks was due to the origin of the trio being formed after they bonded over their love of femme punk bands in detention one afternoon during their freshmen year.

It was strange for Blossom to see the three still having a strong friendship. She always thought it would be her, Bubbles, and Buttercup who would go the distance but things did not go as planned.

Like everything else in her life.

She watched the four communicate, Princess talking excitably about how they should talk a picture for her _Instagram_.

"We should do it by the water," she suggested. "So then the moon will be illuminating against us."

"But wouldn't it be hard to make us out?" Brat whined.

"It will highlight our silhouettes," Princess explained.

"If they aren't seeing my face, I'm not doing it," Berserk argued with Brat nodding her head in agreement.

"Fine," the redhead shrugged, glancing at Brute. "You going along with them?"

Brute arched an eyebrow at Princess, "And why would I do that?"

Princess grinned wickedly at her, "That's an answer I like to hear."

Brute did not respond but did smile softly at the redhead, following her down to the edge of the lake's water. She stood where Princess suggested, waiting for her to take a picture.

The redhead tapped her chin in thought, looking around at the scenery before smiling to herself and running off into the direction of the pine forest that surrounded the lake. Before Brute could question what she was doing, Princess returned with two flowers in hand.

"Put this in your hair."

"Why?" Brute questioned but did as ordered, tucking the flower behind her ear.

"I like to include a light touch of nature on myself for all my pictures," she explained, following the same action Brute had just done. "And I knew the flowers growing by the pathway were too gorgeous for me to ignore."

Brute shrugged in reply as they prepared themselves for the photo, smiling widely at the camera on Princess' phone. The redhead placed her hand on Brute's shoulder, leaning in to create an sense of closeness between the two. Brute could feel heat rising to her cheeks from Princess' touch, trying to brush off the stir she felt in her chest as Princess proceeded to take more pictures until she found the amount to be acceptable.

Blossom did not realize how much she was spacing out from watching them until she felt a firm hand grab her shoulder, startling her.

"Aye Bellum," Butch greeted with a wide grin, holding back the laughter he had for scaring her, pulling Blossom into a shoulder hug. "It's been too long."

"I agree," she smiled up at him, happy to see Bubbles was correct about Buttercup being the only one from their group to hold a grudge.

Being gone meant Blossom had to readjust to the height difference between her and Butch. She was a solid five–five while Butch was six foot, five inches. Long conversations with him standing up could cause a great strain on her neck sometimes. Her eyes trailed to the figure next to Butch, her arms instantly wrapping around their neck, "Boomer!"

Boomer returned the hug, lifting Blossom up off the ground a little, "It's good to see you too, Blossom."

Blossom pulled away, smoothing out her shirt before running her finger through the ends of Boomer's long hair, "You grew out your hair?"

"You should see it when he puts it in a bun," Butch chuckled.

Blossom's eyes lit up in amusement, "A bun? Oh, I have to see that."

"Maybe another time," Boomer smiled forcibly, glaring at Butch.

"So…" Blossom's eyes darted between the two males, "What's new?"

"Nothing. I'm still working at White Kitty's," Boomer replied. White Kitty's was the town's pet store.

"What about you, Butch?"

She watched as Butch swiftly tossed his eyes to something over her then back to her. Blossom snapped her neck around to see what he was looking at, only to find Buttercup still working on the sound system. The dark-haired girl shouted an explicity out loud after accidentally electrocuting herself.

Blossom wanted to ask if she was okay but knew it would only cause more conflict. Plus, Bubbles immediately rushed over to Buttercup's side to see if everything was alright. Instead, Blossom turned back around to Butch, raising an eyebrow, "Well?"

He shrugged, "Working at my old man's bakery still but I'm also taking some classes at the community college."

"Really?" Blossom grinned.

Despite them being a tight-knit group throughout high school, Butch and Boomer were a grade ahead of the girls, and during the time, they were all concerned about Butch graduating due to his lack of wanting to do anything consisting of school and responsibilities. It took long cramming sessions, rants from Buttercup, and motivational speeches to get Butch to at least get passing grades for his final exams in order to graduate. Afterward, Butch declared his lack of willingness to pursue any further education—it was the same mentality Buttercup ended up having after finishing high school too.

Hearing Butch had changed his mind was a pleasant surprise for Blossom.

He nodded, grinning subtlety, "Yup. Trying out sports marketing right now, but who knows? I might end up like Fuzzy and go to pastry school afterward."

"What changed your mind?"

Butch smiled softly, appearing in another world, "Life can throw you a curveball sometimes that ends up being the change you exactly needed… if that makes senses?"

Blossom shifted in weight, wishing that her curveballs in life had the same results, "I guess," she frowned.

"Yeah, it's crazy—"

Boomer nudged Butch's arm, capturing his attention as the blond showed his phone to him, "Our beer supply has arrived."

"Fuck yeah," he grinned. Butch glanced at Blossom, "We'll finish this later."

Blossom nodded, watching the two head up the gravel path again, retrieving beer from their unknown source. With Bubbles rejoining her side, they talked about Butch's decision about school. The blonde did not know why he suddenly changed his mind, as she explained he simply showed up at the diner one day and said he was going to enroll. Blossom neglected to ask about the navy, deciding to save the conversation for Butch himself, feeling it must be a sensitive topic if Bubbles did not outright tell her about it.

The conversation shifted to catching up on the each other's favorite television shows from the year that they were apart. Bubbles was in the middle of explaining to Blossom about a comedy about the concept of heaven and hell, when the redhead's rose-colored eyes got distracted by the sight of the new arrival joining Butch and Boomer. He was carrying a cooler Blossom presumed contained the beer and was wearing a red baseball hat. Furthermore, he was the mechanic who fixed her air conditioning.

The same person Blossom thought she would never see again.

She ran a hand through her hair, subconsciously fixing her appearance. The blonde in front of her noticed this, raising an eyebrow.

"You alright?"

Blossom nodded hesitantly, keeping the guys in her line of sight but not staring directly at them, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yup."

"Okay… well, like I was saying. They think they are in heaven when actually—"

"Hey Bubs, you want anything to drink?" Boomer asked, having jogged over to where Bubbles and Blossom stood, his cerulean eyes peering intensely at the blonde.

Bubbles pursed her lips in thought, "Got any wine coolers?"

"Um, I'm not sure what Brick brought," he answered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "But I could check."

"Don't be silly. I can do it myself," Bubbles giggled, heading over to where Brick stood with Butch and Buttercup by his side—the dark-haired girl had finally got the sound system working as a flowy acoustic song played over the lake's beach.

The corner of Blossom's mouth turned upward with amusement at Boomer's defeated face. She playfully nudged his shoulder, gaining his attention, "Still got it bad?"

"Unbearably bad," he confessed with a sigh.

The redhead chuckled to herself despite Boomer's dismay. He has been trying to get with Bubbles since his eighth grade year but had no luck due to the blonde's obliviousness and Boomer's awkwardness. She, Buttercup, and Butch have each volunteered to help Bubbles get the message but Boomer stated he wanted, for if he and Bubbles were to get together, it should be because of them and not any outside influence. After six years of pursuing her, Blossom figured Boomer would have quit by now.

"I'm sorry about that, Boomer."

"No, you're not."

"I am. I'm just amused by your dedication, that's all," she explained.

Boomer let out a short chuckle, "Funny. Butch says the same thing."

Blossom smiled softly at him, patting his shoulder in comfort as she glanced over at the group around the cooler. She was looking for Bubbles and seeing if she did end up getting a wine cooler. Instead, Brick looked over at the same time she did, locking eye contact despite the distance. Blossom quickly tossed her eyes away from him, turning back to Boomer.

"How do you know the guy in the red hat?" She said quietly, sneaking another glance at him to see if he was still looking. The redhead male was consumed in a conversation with Butch and Buttercup now.

Boomer raised an eyebrow, "Who? Brick?" Blossom nodded. "Oh… you remember the guy who went to South High that me and Butch would talk about hanging out with sometimes?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, that's him."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows, "How? Even if we did not go to South High, we all knew everyone from our years."

"It might have to do with the fact that he was a senior when you were a freshmen," Boomer suggested. "Plus, he lives on the outskirts of Townsville. He rarely ever comes into town."

"That's strange."

"That's Brick," he shrugged, his cerulean eyes focusing on the platinum blonde across the beach, "I'm going to get a drink."

"You mean you're going to try impressing Bubbles?" Blossom acknowledged with an amused grin.

"What? No. I… You…" he slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Yes… but I need some liquid courage first." He cocked an eyebrow at her, "You want anything?"

"I'm good," she responded. "But thank you."

Boomer nodded, acknowledging her graciousness before walking over to the others.

Blossom contemplated on whether to follow him or not but caught Buttercup sending her a glare after staring at the area for too long. Dejected by this action, the redhead decided to take a seat on the large rock protruding in the middle of the beach—it was a common place where she would hang out with her former friends during their many deep late night conversations.

Once she sat down on the cool rock, Blossom stared up at the sky above them, still amazed by the moon's intensity.

"Hey Blossom."

The redhead clutched her chest, eyes widened at the sound of the voice next to her, turning to see who it was.

On the other side of the rock sat Robin Snyder, her staple chestnut brown bangs making it easier for Blossom to identify her in the dim lighting.

"Robin. I didn't see you there," she breathed, her blood pressure still intense from being startled.

"No one ever does," Robin murmured to herself.

"What was that?"

The brunette forced a smile, "Nothing… I didn't know you were back in town."

"Yeah. I came back five days ago."

"Five days?" She questioned in disbelief. "And I didn't hear anything about it?" Her sky blue eyes fell to the pair of worn-out mustard _Converses_ she wore, hugging her knees. "Wow. Word travels in under five hours here but I find out the biggest relevant news five days later."

Blossom pursed her lips, unsure on how to reply since her and Robin did not have a close relationship. Like Mitch, it was more based on association with Bubbles in which result in her to converse with the brunette a few times before this night.

"I'm sorry about that."

Robin did not reply, simply continuing to stare out blankly in front of her. Blossom did the same, welcoming the silence between them. As she looked out to the moon, the redhead narrowed her eyes, believing to see a red haze in the air. It was difficult to make out but she could see a faint transparent tint of the color against the powerful light shade of the moon.

Blossom turned to Robin once again, opening her mouth to ask her about it when she heard a twig snap next to her. She swiftly glanced over her shoulder, preparing for whatever it is, only to release her tensions when seeing it was Brick. The redhead smiled softly at him as he did the same while crouching to the ground and grabbing any nearby by twigs.

"How's your air conditioning treating you, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching over for more pieces of wood.

"Heavenly," Blossom responded

"Then I definitely earned that forty dollar tip you left me," Brick grinned.

"I was in a generous mood."

"I'm sure."

"But I guess you did deserve it," she teased. "I completely forget we're even in a heatwave until I leave my car," Blossom responded, forgetting all about the unusual color in the sky.

Brick chuckled to himself, piling up the twigs in a neat circle and pulling out a lighter in his pocket, "It felt like it was hundred and twenty-seven degrees earlier today, yet, I'm building a fire because Bubbles is cold."

"She still has the chills? She is definitely getting sick."

"Or she's cold-blooded," Brick said flatly.

"There is no way Bubbles is cold-blooded. She has the warmest personality out of anyone I've ever known."

"I suppose," he shrugged, letting the flame of his lighter hit the pile of twigs he collected. Once satisfied with the fire, Brick shoved the lighter into the pocket of his jeans and took a seat next to her on the rock. His hands supporting him as he leaned back, cocking his neck to face Blossom. "So I'm guessing you went to North High, huh?"

"And you went to South?"

Brick grinned at her, "That explains why I never saw you before despite always hearing your name whenever I came into town."

"Please." She tossed a strand of hair out of her face, peering deeply into his ruby-colored eyes. "If you did see me, you probably wouldn't have paid much attention to me."

He arched an eyebrow, "But here I am, giving you my full, undivided attention," Brick grinned.

"Maybe I'm wrong then," she said softly.

"Maybe so," he responded in a similar tone. Them gazing into each other eyes in silence, the only sound being faintly heard was the laughter in the distance and the crackling of the fire. It was like they were the only ones' on the beach.

That is, until Robin cleared her throat, bringing them to realizing the brunette was there.

Brick followed Robin's action, coughing to himself as Blossom glanced around to the others to distract herself from wondering if they just shared a moment.

Ace, Berserk, and Brute were shotgunning cans of beer while Princess and Brat watched with amusement. Butch was sitting near the shoreline of the lake, skidding rocks across the lake water. Boomer sat next to him, his feet free from the sneakers he wore and in the cool, refreshing lake water. Bubbles and Buttercup were a few feet away from Butch and Boomer, appearing to be in a heated discussion as the dark-haired girl spoke furiously with her hands.

Blossom attempted to listen in on what was being said between the two, focusing all her attention on them. From what she could make out despite their low tone, it seemed they were arguing about her. The redhead sighed dejectedly, downcasting her eyes.

Brick took notice to this, raising his eyebrows, "Upset that they're arguing?"

She shook her head no, "It's more about what they're arguing about."

"Ah." His eyes glanced at the brunette next to Blossom—who was trying to convey she was not listening but Brick knew better—and then back to the redhead, "You want to take a walk?" Brick suggested.

"I, uh…" She furrowed her eyebrows as she spoke without thinking, standing up, "Yeah."

Brick nodded, rising from the rock and cocking his head to the right to gesture what direction they should walk in. She followed his suggestion, them walking quietly with only the sound of the peebles crunching under their shoes and the moonlight guiding them.

"So…" Brick said, disrupting the silence between them. "What happened?"

Blossom inhaled sharply, shaking her head, knowing exactly what he was referencing, "It's stupid but… It's all my fault."

"How so?"

"I made the wrong decision," the redhead replied. "And then kept on making them afterward."

"I know what you mean," he murmured.

She wanted to ask him what he meant but thought against it. They did only meet two days ago and that question seemed a bit too personal. "I wish I could go back in time and change everything. Make the right decision for once."

"You wouldn't learn if you don't make mistakes in life."

"I know," she sighed. "I just—"

Brick abruptly stopped walking, sticking out his arm in front of Blossom, which caused her to pause likewise. Her eyebrows raised in question at him as he stared at the sky. His finger pointed up to the moon.

"The moon... It's turning red."

Blossom snapped her head around, widening her eyes at the sight of the moon becoming consumed by a wine-red shade and remembering the discoloration she saw in the sky earlier that night.

"Oh my god," she whispered in disbelief.

"We should get back to the others," Brick said firmly. Blossom nodded, following him back to where the group was. When they arrived, everyone was huddled around the shoreline, astonished by the moon as they were too.

"What the fuck?" Butch questioned.

"It's so beautiful," Bubbles grinned, mesmerized by the sky.

"Am I the only one who thinks something bad is about to happen?" Blossom asked around the group, getting no response as they all were too distracted.

"Hey. Do you see that white light in the distance?" Boomer inquired, pointing up to the location of which he spoke about. The others nodded, shocked by the natural phenomenon happening in front of them.

"I think it's a meteor," Bubbles squealed. "This is so amazing!"

Butch squinted up at the bright light, noticing as it grew closer and closer with every second. "Um… I hate to be the one to say it but that shit is coming right towards us!" He said, his voice on edge.

"Are you kidding me?" Berserk shouted, making a run for the parking lot while Brat sunk to her knees, screaming at the top of her lungs.

The others all glanced at each other, searching for an answer for what to do but knew it was too late. Before anyone could say anything, the blinding light crashed into the shoreline where they all stood, consuming all of them in eternity darkness

* * *

The pain was unbearable. Her head felt like it was going to explode. She could hear herself let out a moan but it sounded foreign to her body. As if someone else was saying it ten feet away. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as the pounding in her head continuing to grow in strength.

Fire was the first thing that caught her eyes, the blaze seeming to move towards her like a snake slithering in the grass. She rubbed her eyes, hoping she was not really dead and this was not Hell.

The flames surrounded her body. Her throat becoming in engulfed in smoke, making it painful to breath. The brims of her eyes watering as she coughed furiously.

Then the fire went out in the blink of an eye, turning into a more dense, grey smoke. She covered her mouth to not breath in the fumes, holding her breathe as tightly as she could despite a voice in the back of head saying it was pointless since she was already dead.

Her ears perked up at the sound of a wicked cackle. The smoke ceasing to exist as a red figure with claws for hands stood in front of her. A grin plastered on their face as they pinched the front of her shirt to pick her up from the ground.

"Foolish girl," the mysterious being teased. Their voice echoed through every inch of her skull. "Did you really think you could stop me?"

"Huh?" She whimpered, the intense pain in her head growing more and more with each second.

"And to think you had so much promise," they continued. "But I guess the others will do." Their mouth grew more in an erringly manner, sending chills down her spine as she has never seen anything more evil in her nineteen years of life. "Unlike your other friends."

"What?" she murmured, a little more alert. In the distance, her eyes focused on the swirling smoke that appeared like a fiery tornado. She blinked back, realizing they were in the middle of Townsville and not the lake's beach like she originally thought. Right next to Otto's diner to be precise. As she figured this out, the tornado disappeared, revealing a number of bodies on the ground. She furrowed her eyebrows, not noticing the tears flowing down her face.

The hellish figure took amusement to her confusion, moving in a quick speed to the end of the street, letting her get a better look at the bodies.

She gasped to herself, trying to hold back any more tears but it did not seem to happen.

On the ground laid Buttercup, Brute, Boomer, Robin, and Princess. Blood surrounded them in puddles, saturating the clothing they wore.

"What did you do?" She whispered venomously through her tears.

"I didn't do this, Blossom," they revealed in pleasure. "My associates did."

"Who are you—"

"You've always did have a habit of repeating the same mistakes, didn't you?"

"I don't get it," the redhead cried in pain, rubbing her temples to ease the strong throbbing of her head.

"You will one day," the figure teased. "But as of now, I have to kill you."

"What—"

Before she could respond, a sharp claw pierced through her lower abdomen. Her body being thrown harshly onto the rough concrete of the street. Blossom stared up to the deep red sky, following suit of the other five bodies near her as the life fled from her rose-colored eyes.

* * *

She launched up from her bed, her orange hair swaying in every direction. Her body drenched in cold sweat. Blossom placed her right hand on her forehead, wincing at the unbelievable tension from a headache she had. Her bed sheets crumpled up on the ground from the swift movements of her awakening.

Blossom repeatedly blinked around her room, not understanding how she could be here. She should be dead. Yet, she was in her bed, wearing an old t-shirt and sleeper shorts.

She glanced at her nightstand, finding her phone placed there. Blossom quickly grabbed it, checking the date.

 _August 23…_

It was Saturday. The day after Bubbles' plans for the lake hangout. This meant Blossom might have dreamt it all.

The redhead slowly rose from her bed, growing a bit lightheaded from the obsessive pounding in her head. She held the hand-railing of her staircase tightly to ensure she would not trip up in her weak state. Blossom glanced in the living room and then the kitchen, finding her mom sitting at the counter with a plate of eggs and a mug of coffee in front of her.

"There's my sleeping beauty," her mom greeted, smiling warmly at her. She arched an eyebrow at Blossom, taking keen notice of her clammy, pale appearance. "Had a little too much fun last night?"

"I went out last night?" Blossom asked weakly, heading for their refrigerator for a water bottle. She took a big swig of water while listening to her mother's reply.

"Yeah, hun," she replied, narrowing her eyes at her daughter. "Do you not remember anything?"

"No, no. I do. I just…" Blossom paused, trying to find a good excuse but settled with the most believable one. "I must have had a little too much to drink."

"Blossom," her mother sighed. "What did I tell you about underage drinking?"

"Don't get caught because it will ruin your credibility."

"Yes… But what else did I say?"

"To never drink and drive," Blossom murmured, realizing what she had implied.

Her mom stared coldly at her, contemplating on what to do. As she was about to reply, the curly-haired redhead's phone began to ring.

"We'll discuss this later. You understand?"

Blossom nodded, watching as her mom went to their backyard to take the call. The redhead saw this as her opportunity, heading up the stairs in the most rapid pace she could in the state she was in. Once in her room, Blossom changed into a pair of black athletic shorts, a pink tank top, and a pair of flip flops. She then went to the medicine cabinet in her bathroom, swallowing two _Advils_ to help suppress her headache before making a beeline for the foyer, grabbing her keys and wallet.

The redhead peeled out of her driveway, acknowledging to herself that her mom would be more pissed at her but Blossom did not care. She needed answers—and she knew exactly where to get them.

After a ten minute drive and parking her car, Blossom entered Otto's diner, her rose-colored eyes searching for Bubbles in the restaurant but landed on the booth in the back where the blonde sat with Butch, Buttercup, and Boomer, engaged in a hush conversation. The redhead hesitated on whether to approach them, feeling they would not want her there.

Then Blossom remembered only Buttercup did not want her here. She still had friends who care about her.

She was not alone.

Which was exactly what she needed because Blossom did not want to be alone in finding out what happened the night before.

"Hey guys," she greeted when approaching the table, startling Bubbles and Boomer while Butch smiled at her and Buttercup glared.

"So let me guess," Butch said, leaning forward on the table. "You have no fucking clue what happened, right?"

Blossom nodded but quickly regretted the idea as her head intensified in pain, wincing dramatically to herself.

"Blossom, are you okay?" Bubbles asked, concern in her voice. She rose to her feet, motioning for the redhead to sit down, "Here. You should rest."

"Thanks," she replied meekly, scooting next to Boomer.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, huffing hot air, "Unbelievable," she muttered.

Blossom pretended she did not hear the dark-haired girl, focusing her attention on her blonde friend. She raised an eyebrow at the blue-eyed girl's appearance, "Bubs, you're wearing a sweatshirt? In this heat?"

"I said the same thing," Boomer chimed. "You're going to have a heatstroke in that thing, Bubbles."

"But I'm freezing," the blonde explained, sticking out her hand to the redhead. "See?"

Blossom lightly touched Bubbles' hand, feeling her body instantly drop a few degrees just from the blonde's touch. "Oh my god! You are!"

"I know! And when I woke up this morning, I swear my bedroom was at least forty degrees but my thermostat was at seventy-five."

"That's strange," Blossom replied, unsettled by Bubbles' confession.

"No shit, _Sherlock_ ," Buttercup interjected, rising to her feet, speaking as she walked towards the exit of the diner. "I swear, the sound of your voice aggravates the fuck out me."

"Buttercup!" Bubbles gasped as Blossom rose to her feet likewise, following Buttercup and getting a grip around her wrist, turning her around.

"Please don't leave, Buttercup," she pleaded.

Buttercup snorted, stripping away her hand, "Try and stop me, you two-faced—"

Blossom blinked back, watching as Buttercup stopped talking mid-sentence, frozen in her stance. The redhead snapped her neck around to the others, finding them in a similar situation. Blossom's eyes widened as she realized her headache has seemed to disappear, pondering on whether she did this.

All she thought about was trying to find a way to stop Buttercup from leaving.

Blossom raised an eyebrow at Buttercup's stiff body. She did achieve her goal. Now only if she could find a way to get Buttercup back in the booth.

As the thought crossed her mind, Buttercup was free from her suspension, moving again. But this time, she moved backwards, taking a seat back at the booth. Blossom blinked to herself, finding herself sitting across from Buttercup and Butch again, Bubbles sticking out her hand, just like they were a couple minutes ago.

And then, everything began over again.

"See?" the blonde questioned before expressing confusion. "I said this before…"

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows, "What the fuck just happened?"

"I think…" Blossom whispered, glancing over to wall-clock in the diner, seeing it was now two minutes behind from what it was when Buttercup got up to leave. "I think I reversed time."

"Like time travel?" Boomer asked in disbelief.

"Yeah."

"Yo… That's so fucking cool," Butch awed.

"You're believing this shit?" Buttercup criticized, speaking more towards Butch. The redhead across from her caught on to this, lifting an eyebrow in question.

He shrugged at her, "Believable? No. But I like to believe in the unbelievable."

"You're so cheesy," she grumbled, slamming her hand on the table to help her up. Her fingers grazing against a metal spoon that laid with the table setting. Upon her touch, several micro shocks of electricity spurred out.

Small lightning bolts arising from her fingertips.

"Holy shit. Ba—" Butch coughed to himself, clearing his throat before speaking again. "Buttercup, you just fucking conducted lightning."

Buttercup widened her green eyes, staring down at her hands as the others at the table did the same. "I… I did…"

"Guys…" Blossom spoke, gaining their attention—even Buttercup's. She winced a little as her headache slowly came back to her, continuing, "Don't you think it's a little too coincidental that Buttercup and I gained some strange abilities after last night?"

"What are you trying to say?" Bubbles asked hesitantly.

"I'm trying to say that whatever sort of meteor that was last night… it must have given us powers or something."

Buttercup rolled her eyes at the redhead, "This isn't a _Marvel_ comic, Blossom."

"And I understand that, Buttercup," she responded through her teeth. "But it's obvious something strange has happened…" Her pink eyes darted among the four other faces at the table, "Am I going to be the one to say it?"

A silence persisted between the five, a somber expression clear from each one's face, until Boomer spoke quietly.

"We all should be dead."

"Exactly."

"If… If we're going on this 'theory' that we got some sort of abilities last night, then I think I should show you this," Boomer continued, grabbing for the glass of water in front of Blossom. "I notice it when I was taking a shower this morning and how the water kept repelling off me… it was like I was… what's that one thing we learned in biology?"

"Hydrophobic," Blossom answered.

Boomer pointed at her, " _That_." He dipped his finger into the glass, "Anyways, I was confused as fuck—well, even more, confused because of everything—but then when I focused all my attention on the water itself, I could do this," the blond finished, lifting his dry finger out of the glass, creating a trail of water that floating in the air.

"Dude," Butch breathed. "You can fucking waterbend! This is the sickest shit ever!"

"Okay… so maybe Blossom did have a point," Buttercup said begrudgingly. Blossom smiled softly at the dark-haired girl, hoping this was a sign of progress between them but was shot down by the hard glare Buttercup sent over.

"This is so pretty," Bubbles awed, reaching out to the free-floating water. Her fingertip lightly tapped the liquid. In an instant, the water and the rest of the contents in the glass crystallized into ice. Once she saw what she did, the blonde took a step back, distraught. "Oh my…"

"Wait…" Butch spoke. "All of you got some badass abilities and I haven't gotten anything?"

"Is that all you care about, Butch?" Buttercup exasperated as he nodded. She groaned to herself at his response.

"From us four, it's probable that you did too," Blossom answered. "And the same for the others at the lake, which is why we should talk to them."

"And what if they didn't get any powers?" Buttercup challenged. "We can't just assume things are the same… but then again, that's what you're good at, Blossom."

"Buttercup—"

"I'm out of here," she murmured, sending daggers at Blossom. "Don't you fucking dare try stopping me again."

The four left remained quiet as the dark-haired girl exited. Blossom felt ten times smaller after the interaction. Butch exhaled loudly, breaking the silence.

"I'll go calm her down," he said quickly, rushing out the door after Buttercup.

With the other side of booth now empty, Bubbles took the opportunity to sit down again, tossing her eyes between Boomer and Blossom.

"So… what now?"

"We need to talk to everyone," Blossom repeated. "It's the only way we can confirm that, whatever happened, did have an effect on us."

"I don't know," Boomer replied, scratching his head. "I think Buttercup has a point."

"What?"

"Yeah. What if we're the only ones with abilities?" Bubbles responded. "This could turn out like the _X-men_. Everyone wanting to destroy the 'mutants'."

"It's best if we keep a low profile for now," Boomer suggested. "Figure things out between the five us before mixing in the others."

"But…" Blossom sighed to herself. The nightmare she had before waking up, replaying in her mind. She had the gut feeling something of the supernatural sorts was in works here but could not voice her opinion. The redhead knew she needed these four to help understand things better and going against them would not benefit her at all. Agreeing with their decision was in her best interest but it did not mean she was going to give up on her idea so quickly. "Alright… we'll keep a low profile."

* * *

"Buttercup," Butch shouted down the street, following the dark-haired girl into the alleyway in which lead to where he parked his car.

She paused her steps, reluctantly turning around. Folding her arms and raising an eyebrow at him, "Yes?"

He jogged a little to catch up with her, a concern expression on his face, "What was that all about?"

"You know why," she grumbled stubbornly, not meeting his eyes.

Butch inhaled sharply, running a hand through his short, dark hair, "You have to get over it, Buttercup. It was a year ago."

"I should get over it?" Buttercup challenged, narrowing her eyes at him. "Out of all people, I thought you would have my back… and not her's."

"I always have your back over anyone," he said softly, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "But if this science fiction shit is legit, we need to stick together. Which means—"

"We need Blossom," she sighed in defeat. "I'm not going to enjoy this."

"I know but I'll be right there to make things a little more tolerable."

"And how could you be so sure?" she teased.

"Because I'm your boyfriend and you love me and all that other junk," he grinned before bending down to kiss her. As much as she wanted to resist him, Buttercup gave in, kissing him back with a smile.

The couple was too wrapped in their affection to notice the pebbles around their feet beginning to levitate.

Or to see the mysterious figure hiding in the shadows at the end of the alleyway, grinning wickedly to themselves before vanishing away.

* * *

It was midnight. Not a single soul in Townsville seemed to be awake…

Well, except for one.

Running their hand along the rough exterior of the abandoned candy factory, they watched as a trail of flames followed soon afterward. Their eyes glowed from the illuminating fire that soon surrounded the building.

A dark cloud circled around their body, transporting them two miles away from the burning building. From the distance, they watched blankly at the destruction they caused, not wanting to acknowledge the presence that stood next to them.

"Fire… my personal favorite form of chaos," the shadow figure beamed, their voice echoing like when a person spoke into a fan when it was on. Their soulless eyes peering at the individual next to them, "Congratulations. We're one step closer now."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hello loves. I'm super excited about this side project that I'm working on and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. This chapter will act as a prologue to the entire series as the next chapters will be formatted differently. I will be doing a different point a view for each chapter and few other surprises. Please review and thank you for reading.**


	2. The Past

_September 15th_

 _Cambridge, Massachusetts_

 _11 months ago..._

She was completely freaking out.

Her first ever exam since coming to MIT and she was running late. Blossom cursed to herself, wondering why she ever let her roommate talk her into studying past two in the morning. If she did not, the redhead would not have to weave through her unacquainted classmates on her way across campus to the biology building.

Blossom glanced at the time on her phone, noting she was already three minutes behind and had seven more to go considering her distance. However, she pushed through, picking up her pace.

Making a sharp turn on a corner, her eyes still on her phone, Blossom felt her body crash into someone else, falling backward. Her phone getting thrown out of her hand.

Before she fell to the ground, a strong hand wrapped around her arm, catching her fall. In an instant, Blossom was pulled closer to whoever her savior was.

"Careful there," a deep voice warned her. "You wouldn't want to damage that beautiful face of yours."

Blossom combed through the fray strands of her hair she accumulated from her fall and her running, glancing up to a smiling brown-haired male. He had crisp green eyes remindeding her of the color of Granny Smith apples. His caramel-toned hair was matched with thick eyebrows. She could tell he workouted a lot given by his muscular arms which were on display in the tight t-shirt he wore. When he smiled, a deep-rooted dimple formed on his right cheek, while his eyes crinkled up.

Her face reddened at his compliment as she smiled weakly out of embarrassment, "Thank you," she mumbled. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem," he replied. "It's the least I could do since I did bump into you."

"Well, I was being an idiot and staring at my phone instead of where I was going."

"I'm sure you had a good reason."

"Yeah, I—My exam!" she exclaimed, quickly grabbing her phone off the ground. The feeling of relief washed over her body to see it did not get cracked from being dropped—only a few scratches. Blossom threw a glance over her shoulder at the kind stranger, "Thanks again," the redhead said as she ran off towards the biology building, leaving the male confused but also smitten.

* * *

 _August 24th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom stared at the alarm clock sitting next to her bed. The bright red numbers blinking back at her, taunting her over the sleepless night she acquired.

The redhead spent half of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep due to prolonging thoughts about what happened on Friday night, and the other half in misery as she gave up on any hopes of having an ounce of sleep. Her eyes feeling heavy, stinging from warmness.

On the bright side, her headache seemed to calm down. It now simply felt like a constant but manageable pressure against her skull.

Blossom watched as the number flickered from six to seven, sighing to herself and tossing her covers to the side. If she was not going to get any sleep, then she better get a cup of coffee in her system.

She made sure to take the lightest steps down the stairs to ensure she would not wake her mother, creeping into the kitchen. Blossom was taken back when she saw her mom was already in there, coffee mug in hand.

There was something different though.

Her rose-colored eyes immediately landed on the orange slices lying on a plate in front of her mom.

Her mom would only eat oranges whenever there was a death in the family or there was a setback in her career—she liked to tell her daughter the Vitamin C helps cheer her up but Blossom thinks it is more like a placebo effect on her mom.

"What's wrong?" Blossom asked instantly, her voice a little hoarse from just "waking" up.

"Blossom…" her mom whispered, a little startled by the sudden appearance of her daughter. She then blinked back, reverting back to the proper composure she always possesses, "The old factory caught on fire last night."

"Are you serious?" she breathed in disbelief. Just four days ago, the redhead was staring out to the building. Her mind remembering the shadowy figure calling out to her, wanting her to enter the abandoned building. Blossom wondered if, whatever she had seen on that day, had anything to do with the fire but did not vocalize it as her mother would think she was going crazy.

Her mom nodded, "It happened at midnight. Luckily, no one was harmed since everyone was asleep but it also means no witnesses. Then there's the fact…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence as she became aware of _who_ was speaking to.

"Fact of what?" Blossom asked, her voice on edge. She was not going to disregard her mom trying to keep something from her.

"It's nothing, Blossom," her mom said firmly. "It's a matter of taxpayer money. _That's it._ "

The redhead eyed her mom suspiciously but decided not to press on. Instead, she poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat next to her mother.

"Everything will be fine, mom."

Her mom's face remained emotionless. Her eyes focusing on the mug in hand as Blossom could tell she was conflicted about something but would not express it.

"I hope you're right."

* * *

 _September 25th_

 _Cambridge, Massachusetts_

 _Eleven months ago…_

"Blossom, it's not that big of a deal," her roommate, Tina, reassured as she applied a bold shade of red to her lips. "So you got a sixty on your exam. It's not like you failed."

"I know…"

"And it's manageable enough that you can still end the semester with a high B."

"I guess," she replied, sinking her shoulders. "I just… I wanted to be on top of my game for everything."

"Rookie mistake," Tina grinned, winking at the redhead. "But trust me. Going out tonight will make you feel ten times better."

Blossom decided to remain mute, applying her eyeliner as Tina began gossiping about some individuals who were putting on the party they were heading to. Going out for the night was the furthest thing on her mind but Tina pressed on how Blossom needed to blow off some steam.

" _I've never seen someone so wound up tightly before,_ " her roommate had joked a few hours ago.

The statement made Blossom reluctantly agree to go with her to some party off-campus.

Tina was from Seattle and was majoring in mechanical engineering. Her parents had immigrated from Vietnam ten years before she was born. Growing up, Tina was pressured to focus all her time on academics. It was this that caused her roommate to take on a rebellious streak during her final years of high school in which has carried over into college.

While this party would be Blossom's first since coming to MIT, it would be Tina's twentieth. The redhead could not even judge her roommate as she maintained her grades despite partying almost every day since school started.

"So what are you wearing?" Tina questioned, fluffing her shoulder-length jet black hair to add some volume.

"Jeans and a blouse."

"Oh no, no, no," her roommate challenged, shaking her head. "You're not going to show up at this party wearing a pair of jeans."

"Why not?"

"Because we're trying to get you some dick here, Blossom. And jeans are a definite no."

Blossom felt her face warm up, furrowing her eyebrows, "Um. I did not agree to this nor do I think you should be making that decision for me."

"Fine," Tina huffed. "But you're not wearing jeans."

"Alright. Then what am I suppose to wear?"

Tina snapped her fingers together, rushing over to her closet in the room, "I have just the thing," she said proudly, presenting a black dress to Blossom. "You would look so fucking hot in this."

Blossom raised an eyebrow at the dress, inhaling loudly, "You're not going to be satisfied unless I wear the dress, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's about right," she nodded.

"Let me go put it on then," Blossom sighed, heading towards their bathroom and grabbing the dress from Tina. Closing the door, the redhead stripped herself from the clothing she wore from earlier in the day and shimmed herself into the dress.

Once on, Blossom stared at herself in the mirror. The dress flattered the small curves she possessed, running smoothly against them, while the fabric stopped mid-thigh, showing off her milky white legs. The sweetheart neckline of the dress allowed her to show up her assets but in a tasteful way. Blossom held up her hair, wrapping it up into a high ponytail as she felt it was the best hairstyle for the outfit.

She entered back into their shared dorm. Tina grinning widely at Blossom's appearance.

"I was totally fucking right. You're hot as shit, Blossom."

"Thanks," Blossom murmured, pulling the dress down a little but did silently agree with Tina.

"And now that you're ready," Tina began, grabbing her and Blossom's keys. "It's time to fucking party!"

* * *

"So what is your major?" Blossom shouted over the loud music of the party. The bass shaking the entire wooden structure of the house. She was surprised there has not been a noise complaint yet.

As Tina requested, Blossom attempted to speak to some of her male classmates. At the moment, she was speaking to Anthony, a tall sophomore from Persian descent. So far, he has barely listened to a word she has had to say, finding her chest to be more appealing.

"Huh?" He raised an eyebrow, blinking at her, taking his eyes off her chest for the only the second time since they started their conversation. "What did you ask?"

"Never mind," she frowned before finding a way to excuse herself from him. The redhead wallowed her way through the party crowd, not sure of where to go when she felt a hand grab her arm, spinning her around.

"Any luck?" Tina asked enthusiastically. A red cup in one hand, the other removed from Blossom's arm to be placed on her roommate's hip.

"Other than having the same conversation with five different guys who were more interested in how I looked over what I had to say, I have not been lucky."

"Blossom. Forget about trying to talk and focus more on cutting loose," Tina encouraged. "It's college. Have a one night stand, girl. Everyone does."

Blossom's cheeks reddened as her gaze fell to the pair of black wedges on her feet, "Tina, about that, I…"

"Oh my god, Blossom," she gasped, grabbing the redhead's shoulders and whispering to her, "You're a virgin? That's why you're so mopey about this?"

"Yeah," the redhead breathed, feeling embarrassed even though she had every right not to be. It was just the topic was something Blossom has never openly discussed with anyone. Not even when she was friends with…

Blossom cleared her throat, meeting Tina's charcoal eyes and forgetting the memories overflowing her mind, "I'm going to get some air."

"Do you need some company?" Tina asked sincerely. "I'm sorry for overstepping. I didn't… I didn't know. Shit, Blossom. I—"

"It's fine, Tina," Blossom smiled weakly. "I just need to be alone right now."

"Okay," her roommate mumbled, moving out of Blossom's way.

With that, the redhead made her way to the back entrance of the two-story colonial style home. A refreshing breeze blew through her hair as she leaned against the railing of the deck attached to the house. Her eyes captivated by the size of the moon overhead.

In the distance, she could hear a group of guys chatting to themselves on the lawn but other than them, the backyard was empty. Blossom let out a deep breath, happy to not be in the cramped house anymore. No more sweaty bodies bumping into her or having to yell over the deafening sound system.

Just her and the chilling wind of the onset autumn weather.

The redhead sighed contently to herself, her mouth turning upward. It was moments like these that made her not regret her decision.

That leaving everything she has known and ruining all her relationships, to start her life over again, was worth it.

"Hey…" Blossom snapped out of her thoughts, glancing at the group of guys passing by her to re-enter the house. One of them stopping to speak to her, his bushy eyebrow raised while the others continued on without him. " _I know you._ "

Blossom narrowed her eyes at him, reading his face in the moon. His crisp green eyes becoming recognizable. With a grinned, she addressed him, "You're the guy that stopped me from falling."

"And you're the girl who left me wondering what your name was," he said coolly.

She raised both of her eyebrows, "Wow… Quite a charmer, aren't you?"

He shrugged his shoulders, joining her by the railing, leaning casually, "Oh, definitely."

"You like this with every girl?"

"Only the ones I like."

"How do you know you like me?" She teased. "You don't even know my name."

"Call an intuition."

"Smooth."

"So I've been told," he chuckled. His eyes never leaving hers, "How about that name, now?"

"It's Blossom."

"Blossom," he repeated with an electric smile. The way he said her name, sent chills down her spine. He had such affection in his voice that she could not fathom how he could have from two brief encounters but he did.

"And yours?"

"Henry."

She smiled softly at him, reading his expression to see where this was going but hoping it would not end soon.

"Well, it's nice to properly meet you, Henry."

"I can say the same."

"So… are you from around here?"

"I'm from Nashville," he replied. "Although, my mom's family is from Rhode Island, so I kind of had an idea of the general area before coming to MIT."

Blossom nodded, "I've always wanted to visit Nashville. I even considered applying to Vanderbilt."

"What changed your mind?"

She frowned for a brief second, recalling the memory. Bubbles and Buttercup had discovered her application one day and confronted her about it. After convincing them she was merely applying for the fun of it and was not actually going to attend, Blossom did not have the heart to finish out the application.

"I… I didn't have enough money for the application fee," she lied, decidng she wanted to move on from any memories associated with Townsville. It was less painful this way.

Henry furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before lighting his expression, "Well, Cornelius Vanderbilt was a Robber baron, so it does match up."

Blossom laughed lightly, "History jokes? Really?"

"Hey, I originally was a history major," he defended playfully. "If I can't do it for a living, I have to reference it at all times."

"Not to be rude or anything, but why would come to MIT for history?"

"Passion," he answered with a half-turned smile. "That and I wanted to piss off my dad."

"Daddy issues, I see?"

"Quite the opposite," Henry chuckled. "He's actually a history professor, which why I fell in love with the subject. But he wanted our family to be more diverse in our academia and suggested I should do something more scientific since my sister got to major in English and my mom teaches high school algebra."

"That sounds… a bit ridiculous."

"Exactly," he grinned. "Which is why I tried to piss him off."

"Did it work?"

"Oh yeah," Henry nodded. "For my entire first semester, he would not speak to me. I had to change my major for him to finally acknowledge me."

"That's terrible," Blossom frowned, lightly brushing her fingers against his forearm in comfort.

He shrugged, "It is what it is. Besides that, we get along fine," Henry finished, his eyes drifting to Blossom's hand, a wide grin on his face.

Her face reddened at his reaction, retreating her hand to her side. "Sorry…" she coughed.

"No need to apologize. I do not mind it at all."

Blossom raised an eyebrow, playfully rolling her eyes, "Alright… so what are you majoring in now?"

"Astrophysics. With a minor in history but that's top secret," he answered with a wink.

"What a rebel," she teased.

"I can be," Henry coaxed, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

"Oh, well…" Blossom fumbled, her face becoming inflamed again. "What year are you?" She asked, pretending her fluster did not happen.

Henry expressed mild disappointment at her shift in conversation but continued on, "I'm a junior."

"A junior?" Her voice going a higher octave with her question. "That means you're like twenty—"

"Twenty-one," he finished. "I have an early birthday."

"Oh…" The lightness she has felt from the interaction deflating. Suddenly, Blossom could not help feeling as if she was a child full of naivety. Hell, she was barely eighteen and he could legally drink. There was too much of an age gap between them.

"Not a good answer, huh?"

"Considering I just turned eighteen a month and a half ago, I don't think so."

"Why not?" Henry shrugged

Blossom furrowed her eyes, confused by his nonchalant reply, "I'm like a baby compared to you."

He looked her up and down with an eyebrow raised, "You're _definitely_ not a baby, Blossom."

"What—I…" She could not formulate a response, flustered by his action.

Henry grinned at her reaction, clearing his throat. "Anyways. Enough about me, what about you? Where are you from?"

Blossom inhaled sharply. His disregard to her worries about their age rubbing her the wrong way but she decided to ignore it for the sake of the conversation, "Oh, um. This super small town in Arizona. Right outside of Phoenix."

"Arizona? You're a long way from home."

"Yeah… I am," she mumbled, her chest becoming heavy at the thought.

"You alright?" Henry asked with a concerned look on his face. "Your vibe has totally shifted. Did I say something wrong or—"

"No," she whispered, interrupting him. "I just… I don't like talking about my past. That's all."

"Okay," he nodded. "Then we'll just focus on the future, shall we?"

Blossom smiled softly at him, feeling enlightened again. The doubts clouding her mind disappearing. "I like that."

"Good because I was thinking about taking you out to the movies next week," Henry grinned sheepishly, presenting his hand to her. "So how about it?"

She wanted to think it over. Make a pros and cons list about going out with Henry but Blossom spoke before her mind could even process anything, pulled in by his charm and compliments.

"I would love to," she accepted, placing her petite hand on the palm of his hand.

* * *

 _August 24th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom drummed her fingers against her steering wheel, wondering how she could ever think this was a good idea. There was no way anything beneficial would come out of this. But she had to try.

She had to show she cared.

Mustering up all the courage she had, the redhead exited her car and walked up the driveway of the house that used to be like a second home to her. Blossom waited patiently after ringing the doorbell, rehearsing the speech she had prepared in her head.

When the door open, she smiled weakly at the individual in front of her.

"Hey, Mrs. Utonium," Blossom greeted with a forced politeness. "It's good to see you again."

"Blossom Bellum," the dark-haired women addressed, staring unimpressed at the redhead with her electric green eyes. "Sara didn't tell me about you being back."

"Yeah. I came back about a week—"

"So I guess you weren't cut for those east coast snobs, huh? I always told Buttercup that you wouldn't make it," Mrs. Utonium interjected. "Wasted your time, didn't you?"

Blossom pursed her lips. This type of reaction was common when dealing with Sedusa Utonium. Once an elite among the citizens of Townsville, the woman grew ever-so bitter after the mysterious death of her husband, Jonathan Utonium. Not only did she lose her partner in life but Mrs. Utonium lost all of her financial security. Despite opening a salon in the middle of town and having an above average amount of success, she has never properly adjusted to the lifestyle change nor to John's death.

"Is Buttercup home?" the redhead asked after a few seconds of an awkward silence.

Mrs. Utonium narrowed her eyes at Blossom, folding her arms, "Doesn't my daughter hate you? I could swear the last time she spoke to me about you, she said you were a pretentious, little bitch. Which, given your mother, I can completely agree with Buttercup."

"I…" Blossom paused, shaking her head. "Just forget it. This was a stupid idea."

"Obviously," Mrs. Utonium replied, staring at her talons of nails which were painted a blood red. "But I didn't have to go to some fancy-pant university to figure that out, now did I, honey?"

"Have a nice day, Mrs. Utonium," the redhead murmured before walking back to her car and attempting to forget the entire interaction ever happened.

* * *

 _December 25th_

 _Cambridge, Massachusetts_

 _8 months ago…_

She has been staring down at her phone for the past ten minutes, unsure of whether to send the text message which has been taunting her or to give up. It should not be this big of a deal. It was simply a "Happy Holidays" text message to her four former best friends but Blossom could not do it.

The redhead was not prepared for the type of response she would get from them. She was not ready for the inevitable radio silence from them.

After further consideration, Blossom erased her words, turning her phone off and tossing it to the side of Henry's bed.

She sunk into his pillows at the head of the bed, waiting for him to come back from downstairs with her present.

Never in Blossom's mind did she ever consider spending the holiday season with her boyfriend instead of her family and friends, yet, here she was in the apartment he shared with three other classmates, lying on his bed like she belonged there.

But she did belong there, Blossom tried to tell herself repeatedly ever since she stepped foot in his room the first time after a month of dating.

Henry was definitely a charmer, never stopping to make Blossom flustered with either a compliment or innuendo. He also could not get enough her, always asking to see her every day even if they were busy or not.

He was her first boyfriend though, and because of that, Blossom wanted to take things slow with the entire process. The redhead could tell he would get a little agitated with moments where she would pull away before things got to the point of no return. It made her feel guilty for not being fully there for him.

For being too inexperienced and uneased about their relationship.

Then there was the age difference between them in which Blossom felt had a strong affect on their relationship even though she could not necessarily pinpoint exactly what it was.

There has been only one other instance other than the night they properly met when Blossom approached him about the topic of their age.

It was Halloween and they had dressed up as _Adam and Eve_ for a party thrown by one of his friends. After being there for an appropriate amount of time, Henry suggested they go back to his place. Blossom knew what he was truly insinuating and rejected the idea, much to his dislike, added on with questions as to why. She answered with the belief she was not ready. Henry pressed with the idea of him understanding and he was not going to pressure her into anything. Blossom then asked him if he thought it was even appropriate for them to doing anything since she was 18 and he was 21.

Henry simply replied, " _Age doesn't change how I feel about you, Blossom._ "

After that comment, Blossom ended going to his apartment.

Nothing happened between them. Just an intense make-out session, some cuddling, and watching _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ together. She was in complete bliss entwined in his arms. The thought of whether _that_ was what love felt like crossed her mind on repeat for the next three days after the night.

"Okay babe," Henry said, entering the room with a small box wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper and shutting his door behind him. "I—woah, what's with the long face?" he asked, pausing in his steps.

Blossom shook her head, "It's nothing… just thinking about things at home."

"I thought we were going to focus on the future, Blossom?" Henry teased.

She had told him about her situation in Townsville after their sixth date. His response was that everyone can go fuck themselves and Blossom did not need them. She was better off because she had him now. Repeatedly telling her on how she only needed him and not some fake friends.

"Yeah… you're right."

"Great. Now be prepared to be wowed."

Blossom raised an eyebrow, grinning with amusement, "That's the best you got?"

"I'm going to let the present do all the talking," he grinned, winking at her as he sat next to her on his bed. Henry handed her the box, watching intensely.

She giggled at his enthusiasm, peeling away the wrapping paper on the present, revealing a _Tiffany Co._ jewelry box. "Henry. Please tell me you didn't spend this type of money on me…" she said softly, opening the box, her mouth agape in shock.

Inside the box was a rose gold necklace with a flower pendant. In the center of the flower was a diamond, reflecting brightly at her.

Blossom stared at the gift with bewilderment, not able to comprehend how someone could spend so much money on her like this.

"Do you like it?" Henry asked, snapping her out of the trance she was under from the astonishment.

"Henry," she whispered, nodding. "How could I not?"

He flashed a grin at her, motioning for her to turn around, "Come on. Let's see how it looks on you."

Blossom did as he suggested, her back facing him. He pushed aside her hair before removing the necklace from the box. His fingers brushing against her skin as he placed the necklace around her neck before lightly leaving a trail of kisses on the back of her neck to her shoulder blade.

"Henry…" she warned, turning back around. A playful grin on her face as she met his eyes. Her fingertips grazed on the pendant that fell just above her chest.

Henry arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on his face. "You look gorgeous…" he whispered, moving along to the croak of her neck. "But you're always do."

Blossom ran her hand through his hair, breathing in his scent of sandalwood. "You're always such a flatterer."

"Blossom…" he murmured in between in his kisses. "I want to see you in nothing but that necklace."

"What?" She startled, pulling away from him. His eyebrows furrowed at her reaction. "Henry… we can't."

"Why not?" He asked, a slight annoyance in his voice.

"Because it's too fast," Blossom said quickly as other reasons came center frame in her mind.

"So what if it is?" Henry challenged. "I love you and—"

"Wait," she interrupted. "You love me?"

He smiled sheepishly at her, "Isn't obvious?"

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Say that you feel the same."

There it was again. The sense of him rubbing her the wrong way. Blossom could not put her finger on why or what it was.

She peered intensely into Henry's eyes. He was on edge, waiting for a reply. Blossom inhaled deeply.

There was no way she could not say she did not love him. Blossom knew he spent a hefty price on the necklace she wore. How could she leave him high and dry after doing so? She was being selfish and inconsiderate of his feelings.

Blossom knew she did feel grateful for Henry. Then there was the nights after Halloween where she questioned the prospect of loving him. In a general sense, the redhead assumed that she did.

Furthermore, Henry was the only person she had. Blossom could not risk losing him. She could not risk with being left alone.

By saying the three words back, it simply made things easier for her.

"I do… I love you too."

He smiled widely at her, wrapping his arm around her waist, "Then what's so bad about moving fast?"

She examined his face, searching for an answer to reject his proposition but could not find one. Blossom owned this to him.

"Nothing I guess," she whispered.

"So… are we doing this?" He asked cautiously, excitement flashing through his eyes.

Blossom hesitated before nodding. There was no going back now.

"Yeah… we are."

* * *

In the aftermath, with Henry sleeping soundly beside her and her hiding under the sheets of his bed, Blossom felt sore, sweaty, and gross.

She felt used.

The redhead could not explain why. He was her boyfriend and they loved each other. This is what usually happened.

So why did she feel this way?

* * *

 _August 24th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom could say she has always been a curious person. Always asking questions and wanting to investigate everything. While she may have lost a bit of her logic during her time at MIT—when she could have needed it the most but atlas, being back in Townsville allowed the redhead feel her old detective self coming back again.

With that, it did not surprise Blossom when the thought of checking out the factory fire crossed her mind and immediately changed her direction to head into town.

A small part of her was excited to see the ruins of the factory. She felt it had a connection to what happened Friday night and it could give her some clues.

Turning down the road to the main street where the factory laid, Blossom was greeted by police blockades and a large fire-truck blocking her view. She sighed to herself, noticing the lingering police present in the area and turned her car around. This was what Boomer and Bubbles meant by needing to keep a low profile.

However, she was not going to give up so easily, deciding to go the back way around the factory to see the other side of it.

Blossom was shocked to see the back entrance was given the same treatment, the road blocked off from the public likewise.

She groaned, making the decision to go home when a neon sign caught her eye.

 _White Kitty's pet store._

Blossom parked her car in a nearby parking lot and headed towards the pet shop, hoping Boomer was working and they could talk about the factory fire.

A bell chimed over her head as she entered the store, finding displays holding various domestic animals lining the walls and an empty play pit in the middle of the store for when they let the puppies stretch their legs but no one was in the building.

"Hello?"

Her question was met with the sound of squeaking from a hamster wheel. It was like a ghost town in there.

She glanced around the store one more time before turning on her heel and push against the door to leave. As the bell chimed again, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Blossom?"

The redhead turned around, eyebrow raised to find Robin behind the cash register. Blossom wondered how she got there so fast since the brunette was not there a few seconds ago.

"Hey Robin," she greeted, walking over to the counter. "Is Boomer here?"

Robin frowned at her question, her cheeks becoming a light hue of red, "No. He has the day off."

"Oh okay."

"Is that all you wanted?"

Blossom stared at Robin, taking her question to great consideration.

"Actually… no. It's not."

"Really?" The brunette asked eagerly. Blossom nodded. "What can I help you with?"

The redhead narrowed her eyes at her, "What exactly do you recall from Friday night?"

"Friday night?" she repeated, biting down on her bottom lip and downcasting her blue eyes. "I just remember being alone for the majority of it until I left around midnight… no one even noticed I left, I suspect?"

"Oh. Um… Bubbles and I did," Blossom lied. From what Robin was telling her, the brunette did not recall the meteor. She did not have a blackout of memories. The redhead knew she had to be cautious with her questioning now to avoid Robin getting suspious of anything.

"You don't have to lie, Blossom."

"I'm not. We truly did."

Robin smiled weakly at her, "Thanks…" She arched her eyebrow, "What is with the question though? Having trouble remembering the night?"

"Sorta… What exactly do you remember about me?"

"Other than you and that _hot_ guy in the red hat getting friendly–" Blossom blushed a little at Robin's comment as the brunette continued with her side of the story, "–I do recall you and Bubbles having a little too many wine coolers," Robin answered.

Blossom smiled sheepishly at the unfamiliar memory, "Yikes."

"Yeah… I don't know how both you drove home after that but I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too…" Blossom murmured.

"Is that all you wanted to know?"

The redhead nodded, meeting Robin's eyes for the first time since they started their conversation. There was a flicker of fear flashing through her eyes as she smiled at Blossom with unease.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. She knew from that, Robin was not telling her the truth. There was something the brunette was hiding and she was afraid of Blossom finding out.

"For now, yeah," Blossom answered, turning on heels. "I'll see you around, Robin."

The redhead headed towards the exit, the bell chiming as she left the store, leaving Robin alone with the animals. She was not aware of the brunette letting out a heavy breath she had been keeping in the entire conversation. Nor could Blossom see Robin's body becoming transparent before disappearing in thin air.

* * *

 _March 2nd_

 _Cambridge, Massachusetts_

 _5 months ago..._

Henry called her. He said it was an emergency but Blossom had the nagging feeling it was something else. He wanted her to drop whatever she was doing to come to his apartment, stating he could not wait another second.

Blossom wanted to voice her concerns. She wanted to tell him she was planning to hang out with Tina for the night since the redhead could not even remember the last time they even spoke for more than ten minutes.

But she could not.

Blossom could feel the guilty seeping into her body when the thought of disappointing Henry crossed her mind. So she agreed.

The redhead did wait for Tina to get back to their dorm to reveal the change of plans.

" _Of course_ ," Tina had puffed, throwing up her hands. " _How unfortunate for me to even consider you'll put something before your boyfriend_."

" _Tina…_ "

" _I don't want to hear it, Blossom. Have fun with Henry_ ," her roommate had dismissed, exiting their room and proceeding to slam the door while doing so.

Blossom had no time to digest how she felt about Tina or how to fix the situation as she had to get over to Henry's.

Making record time, the redhead was at his door, her rose-colored eyes full of misery. Blossom felt like she could not breathe. It was as if she was trapped, slowly suffocating herself as the days went on.

Henry did not notice, opening the door and asking her to follow him to his room. He shut the door when they entered, her choosing to stand as he sat on his bed, placing his _MacBook_ on his lap.

She sucked in a tight breath, waiting for what she expected.

For him to break up with her.

It seemed to be the inevitable. They had been arguing a lot more since Valentine's Day. Most of their arguments were about how Henry could be a bit pushy or about Blossom being too distant. Nonetheless, the redhead was the one who had to do the apologizing each time and had to make it up to Henry, which usually was to have sex with him.

The feeling of being disgusted with herself never fleeing her even after the first time.

"So what's up?" She asked softly.

He did not bother looking up to her, his green eyes glued to his computer screen. "You took Professor Ellis' class last semester, right?"

"Biochemistry 2012?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I did," she answered coming out more like a question. This was his emergency? She got into a fight with Tina over this?

"Great," he grinned, finally looking at her. "I'm been having a piss poor time trying figuring out how to approach the paper that's due at end of the semester and I was wondering if I could use yours as a template on what to do."

"I don't know…" she mumbled. "Isn't that cheating?"

"How? I'm not going to copy it?"

"But still…"

"Blossom. I'm your boyfriend. You should want to see me succeed and you should also do whatever you can do to help me in any way."

"Henry—"

"Don't you love me enough to help me?" Henry asked, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Blossom let out her breathe, staring down at the cheap wooden floors of his apartment. Her mind swimming with guilt. She felt like she was abandoning him.

She could not risk losing him. Henry was the only person she had left. Her friends in Townsville wanted nothing to do with her. Tina hated her now. Henry was the last person and Blossom was not going to screw it up for once.

"Yeah. I do," she sighed, taking a seat on his bed. "Let me check my email."

Henry pulled her close to him, kissing her temple. "You're the best girlfriend ever."

Funny. She has never shared the same feeling.

* * *

 _May 3rd_

 _Cambridge, Massachusetts_

 _3 months ago..._

All Blossom could hear was her heartbeat. Everything else being said was drowned out by the loud thumping in her ears.

 _How could this have happened?_

She had been requested to the Dean of Student's office, not having the slight clue as to why.

Then Dean Wallace told her.

She was going to be under academic investigation after a paper she wrote was sold to about a hundred students.

After that, Blossom could not listen anymore. Slowly she was overcome by a sense of panic, suffocating her as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Her mouth was moving rapidly but Blossom did not even know what she was saying. It all seemed incoherent to her.

Dean Wallace simply stared at her, waiting for the redhead to gain her composure to continue on.

It took Blossom a good ten minutes to feel the panic subside, though the effects still lingered within her. Her body physically ached from her sobs.

"I didn't do it," the redhead whispered.

"Ms. Bellum, we can trace the biochemisty paper back to your fall semester. It's clear to us that it is, in fact, your paper. Now if you're saying that someone else shared it with everyone without your knowledge, that does indicate you did share it with another person… am I right?"

The answer to her question flashed through her mind.

 _Henry did this._

Blossom balled her fist, her face furrowing with outrage.

She should expose him. She had every right to. He betrayed her trust. He lied to her.

The redhead softened her expression, tears emerging from her eyes again.

"What are the consequences of this?"

Dean Wallace raised an eyebrow, "I'm afraid that's not up to discussion."

"Please… please tell me something," she begged quietly.

"Ms. Bellum…" The dean sighed, frowning at the redhead, unable to resist the sympathy she had for the student. "If the investigation proves you did commit academic dishonesty, then you will be kicked out… But that is after an extensive investigation, given what you seem to imply. Which will probably involve interviews will all of those involved, and that will be a media nightmare given the amount of those who bought your paper."

"Media?" Blossom cried. "The media will get involved?"

"I'm afraid so…"

Her mind jumped to her mother. If the media got involved, then there was a chance it would all lead back to her. With her involved, it would bring a dark cloud to her family name and her mother. The thought of tarnishing her mother's career which depended on the power of her name was not an easy thing to swallow.

Nor was the idea of ratting out Henry. He did lie but Blossom was not a malicious person.

She could not do it to him. She could not ruin him with ease like he did to her.

Even if Blossom wanted to, the redhead knew she would put everyone above herself.

She was going to protect Henry even if she should not. She was going to protect the hundred individuals who got swindled by Henry. She was going to protect her mom.

Because that was what Blossom does.

She puts everyone before herself.

"How may I prevent any of that from happening?" Blossom asked. Her voice coming out as a murmur.

"Admit to the academic dishonesty and take the repercussions," Dean Wallace. "But Ms. Bellum—"

"Then…" Blossom inhaled sharply, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. "Then I did it…"

"Ms. Bellum, are you sure that you want—"

"I do," she said firmly, nodding. A single tear rolling down her cheek.

"Okay…" Dean Wallace breathed. "Let me explain to you how this will work…"

* * *

Her sadness had evaporated. Now all she felt was the rage.

She knocked furiously on Henry's apartment door, waiting for him or his roommates.

"Yes?" One of Henry's roommate, Gary, greeted her. His eyes followed her body up and down.

Blossom cleared her throat to gain his attention, sending him daggers, "Is Henry here?"

"Oh fuck, you're Henry's girl," Gary chuckled. She narrowed her eyes at him. Blossom could swear she has had at least ten conversations with the guy before this. As she thought of this, a strong scent filled her nostrils, which made it obvious as to why he did not remember her. It also explained his bloodshot eyes. "I swear, with a body like that, I'm sure you're not the clueless child Henry makes you out to be."

Her face contorted with confusion, anger flashing through her eyes, "Excuse me?"

"What?" Gary raised an eyebrow, staring at her for half a minute before gasping. "Ohhhhh. You haven't figured it out that he's taken advantage of you yet, have you?"

Blossom blinked as a response, "What?"

Gary scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah… You haven't heard it from me but Henry has been fucking other girls behind her back for the past couple of months but doesn't think you would find out or notice because, you know, you're eighteen—"

"And I would be too naive to have it cross my mind," Blossom finished, venom in her voice. "He thinks I would be so consumed by having an older guy's attention to notice."

"Yeah… yeah, yeah," Gary nodded, laughing to himself. "That's the exact same shit Henry said, I swear."

Blossom rolled her eyes, folding her arms, "Is Henry here or not?"

"Oh, yeah… I'll go get him."

As she waited, Blossom paced back and forward, debating on what she wanted to say.

Then Henry poked his head out the doorway, a grand-old smile on his face, and his arms open wide to hug her. Blossom took a step back away from him as he furrowed his eyebrows at this action.

"Blossom, is everything—"

"It's over, Henry," she said through her teeth. "I know about everything."

He narrowed his eyes at her, staring as if she was stupid. "Which is what, Blossom?"

"That I was right. I was just some kid to you," Blossom retorted. "I know about the other girls. I know you've been taken advantage and manipulating me…" she inhaled deeply before finishing. "And I know you're the reason why I have been kicked out of school."

"Kicked out?" Henry questioned.

Blossom nodded, glaring at him, "Yes. Kicked out. Dean Wallace told me about your little side business."

"Blossom. Please tell me you didn't—"

"You're safe," she mumbled. "But it's nice to know what you truly care about."

Henry reached out for her but Blossom pushed his hand away. His jaw grinded to this, "Come. We can work through this."

"No. We can not. You've done nothing but lie to me this entire time."

"I've only lied occasionally but everyone lies."

"I don't care."

"But… but I love you, Blossom."

Blossom scoffed at him, "If you really loved me, you would run down to Dean Wallace's office and tell her the truth."

She watched as Henry's entire body froze. He mumbled something undetectable under his breath, avoiding Blossom's eyes.

Blossom chuckled darkly to herself, shaking her head, "I rest my case."

"You can't end this."

"And why can't I? It's not like you don't have some other girl you can do the same things with."

It was Henry's turn to laugh. His laughter full of spitefulness. "You're right. I can move on from you. _But_ _you?_ You have no one. If you leave me, you'll be alone."

"You're right…" she muttered.

She pushed Tina away to the point of there no longer being a relationship between the two. The one time she put herself above everyone else resulted in her relationships in Townsville to be burnt to a crisp besides her mom, and it was not like her relationship with her mom would ever be in the perfect shape for Blossom to blindly trust her with anything. Without Henry, Blossom would be truly alone and in some twisted way, it was Henry's manipulation that has led her in this path to cut off all ties with anyone who was not him.

He drove her away from Tina by consuming all her time to the point she neglected their friendship.

His constant comments on how her former friends in Townsville were bad news and she did not need them, affected her enough to start believing it. Perhaps, this whole time they were waiting for her to reach out but instead, Blossom let Henry get in her head, avoiding any contact with them to fix things.

She had become dependent on him and it disgusted her.

Her eyes searched Henry's face, unable to see the same appeal she once saw at the house party months ago. All Blossom could see now was all her regret.

She had let a boy destroy her future because she was too busy running way from her past. She was too busy trying to separate herself from Townsville, not realizing Henry had soon gained too much control over her.

Blossom took a step forward towards Henry, determination in her face, deciding she was no longer going to be manipulated anymore. "But I rather be alone than spend another second with you."

Henry snorted to himself, "Yeah right."

"Believe what you want, Henry."

"Whatever," he dismissed, rolling his eyes.

Blossom turned on her heel, heading down the stairs in which led to the parking lot of the apartment complex but paused on the first step, tossing a look back at Henry.

"Was this always your plan?" she asked. A hint of sadness in her tone. "To use me?"

Henry sighed loudly, rubbing his temples, "Not at first… The night at the party, I actually did see something in you. So much so, that I wanted you all for myself but you never seemed to give into the idea. That's why I played you whenever I could because I knew you weren't going to be invested in me as much as I was in you. I have needs too, which why I was sleeping with other people behind your back but you brought this on yourself, Blossom. You fucked up our relationship, but it had nothing to do with your age, if that's what you're thinking, Blossom. It made things easier, I'll admit. But really, it was your outlook on life."

"What's that suppose to mean?" She asked but Blossom knew what he meant. It was her lack of dealing with her problems. Her strong need to runaway and pretend everything was fine.

"You know exactly what I mean," Henry said flatly before entering his apartment and shutting the door behind him.

* * *

 _August 15th_

 _Fort Lauderdale, Florida_

 _About over a week ago…_

It has been three months since she has last seen Henry. It has also been three months since Blossom had left MIT for good.

After Dean Wallace cut a deal with her by simply settling by having her drop out instead of being expelled, Blossom decided to do some soul-searching.

The first thing she did was buy a car. A _Volkswagen Beetle_ painted a blush pink. It was the type of decision that would make her mom gag but Blossom was going to make decisions for herself now. And what she wanted was a pink _Beetle_.

She then traveled through all the states of the Northeast. She ate lobster rolls in Cape Cod, got maple syrup in Vermont, visited Time Square and Central Park.

Then Blossom soon went to Pennsylvania and experienced Amish country before going to Washington D.C. She spent a week there, checking out all the museums and monuments. Being at the core of politics reminded her of her mom a lot.

She stopped in all the small southern towns in North and South Carolina, all reminding her of Townsville without all the desert vibes. In Savannah, Blossom visited the bench used in _Forrest Gump_ and participated in a few ghost tours.

Now she was in Florida. She traveled from St. Augustine to Orlando for a week full of theme park fun and then to Fort Lauderdale. Miami and the Florida Keys were next on her agenda before going back up the other side of the peninsula state and heading for New Orleans.

Blossom made sure her days were jammed pack with activities to do. To find museums, exhibits, tourist attractions, zoos… literally, anything she could find, Blossom decided to check out.

She wanted to be proactive. By doing so, it kept her mind off of everything.

It kept her mind off of Henry and her failure at MIT. How he was right about her outlook on life. On how she wanted to prove to him and herself that she would not allow herself to be a puppet again.

Nonetheless, she did make draw some conclusions about the situation. The relationship between the two was utterly unhealthy—it was actually very abusive, if she thought long and hard about evrrything. Henry was not a good person but she did give him too much power over her.

It was for that reason Blossom did not blame Tina for dropping their friendship. She had put all her eggs in one basket and it was her fault for doing so.

She did have to thank Henry for break her naivety about relationships. He was the reason why Blossom now knew what she wanted or did not want in a relationship if she dared to have one again.

Besides her thoughts about Henry, the constant activities kept her mind off the urge to have any concern over her decline in weight due to the stress decreasing her appetite.

To ignore the sadness that was inescapable inside of her, which Blossom was pretty sure was a form of depression.

But more importantly, being productive made her forget about the longing for Townsville within her.

There was a calling. An aching feeling that she needed to go home.

At night, she would only think about Townsville. Blossom would tell herself, she would finally call her mom in the morning before sleeping but each time she woke up, the redhead changed her mind.

Blossom could not shake the feeling on needing to be there. Her conscience speaking loudly with each passing day. Yet, she resisted more and more.

But then, she sat out on the beach for night. Staring out at the ocean as the sun was setting behind her. Her skin was still pale despite being out in the sun more nowadays. The grains of sand sticking to almost every inch of her body.

It was a picture perfect and mesmerizing sight yet Blossom could not enjoy it because Townsville was on her mind. Her mind telling her she needed to go home now. The idea of Townsville needing her too, stirred through her thoughts.

In an instant, Blossom knew she could not run away anymore. She packed up her things from the beach, shaking off the sand, and heading back to her car. Once inside, Blossom pulled out her phone and dialed in the single number she knew by heart.

The line rang once before the other picked up.

Blossom took a deep breath before speaking into the phone, calming her nerves and the thoughts of sounding like a failure.

"Hey, mom… I was wondering if I could come home?"

* * *

 _August 24th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Unsatisfied with Robin's information, Blossom decided to further her individual investigation of what happened Friday. Given she was not on any sorts of speaking terms with four out of the other six involved, the redhead was left with one option.

It was not like she was going to complain.

She smiled softly as the sign notifying her of Jojo's auto repair came into her line of sight. After parking her car and noticing Brick's truck was the only other car in the parking lot again, Blossom approached the door to the office. As she pulled to open, the door did not budge, giving her the knowledge it was locked. She frowned at the fact, taking a step back.

If Brick's truck was here, then he had to be around. Her eyes drifted around the corner of the building leading to the garage. Deciding to ignore her moment of obliviousness, Blossom walked over to the garage, finding the door open and legs sticking out from under some _Toyota_.

She paused at the hood of the car, coughing to herself in an attempt to get his attention.

"We're closed," she heard Brick say under the car after a sigh, noticeable irritation in his voice.

"But I heard you're the best mechanic in the fifty-mile radius? I can't possibly go anywhere else."

There was a slight chuckle from the other end before Brick rolled from under the car, an eyebrow arched. He sat up from his creeper, his forehead and hands stained with black grease while his hair was a ruffled mess of red waves.

"Back already?"

"Like I said, I can't possibly go anywhere else," she grinned.

Blossom watched as amusement crossed his face before it quick fled with Brick clearing his throat. His ruby-colored eyes stared absently out to the vacant desert road.

"Your AC acting up again?"

"No," she frowned, confused by his shift in mood. "I actually wanted to talk to you."

"Talk to me?" He questioned, his amusement returning. This made Blossom smile again. "I'm honored."

"You don't even know what I have to say," Blossom laughed lightly.

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "It's not every day a Bellum actively seeks me out."

Blossom paused to herself, raising both of her eyebrows, "What do you mean by that?"

He shook his head, laying back down on his creeper, "I'm going to be done in about ten minutes. Afterward, I'm going to Citiesville to get something to eat…" She could see him hesitate, closing his eyes before saying, "You're welcome to join me if you want."

"Yeah. Sure," she grinned. "I would love to."

* * *

Once Brick finished and a small disagreement about whose car they were taking—Brick coming out victorious—Blossom wondered to herself where they were going to eat. She considered he might take her to a super local eatery in the Citiesville area. Or perhaps a macho bar. Maybe a sit-down chain restaurant.

Imagine her surprise when Brick turned into the parking lot of a _Dairy Queen_ and joined the drive-thru line.

" _Dairy Queen_? Seriously?" Blossom chuckled.

"Hey. You can get a burger, fries, and ice cream all under ten bucks," he defended with a grin.

"Alright," she surrendered, reading off of the drive-thru menu as they crept closer in the line. "In that case, I'll have a chicken basket and vanilla cup with strawberry sauce."

"Are you sure about that?"

She watched as Brick stared at her with a puzzled look. Blossom sighed, downcasting her eyes as she assumed it had to do with her weight. His expression was the same others would give her now when they saw her weight loss. It was making Blossom more self-conscious about herself than she was before she came back to Townsville. And now Brick was judging her about it too. It was definitely getting under her skin.

"Yeah. I'm going to eat it, if that's what you're thinking. I'm only thin because of stress, not because I don't eat."

"That's not what I meant," Brick replied, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"Then what did you mean?"

"If you really want to get strawberry?" Brick asked with curiosity. "You really want to make that terrible mistake?"

"What's wrong with strawberry sauce?" Blossom challenged. A wave of relief washing over her but she was also slightly embarrassed by assuming Brick was going to judge her. However, she was glad he did prove her wrong.

He put his hands up to motion no harm, "Other than being overly artificial tasting, it's gross looking."

"You think so?"

"Yes," he nodded firmly.

Blossom leaned over on his console, her elbow brushing up against his arm, "Then I'm definitely getting the strawberry sauce," she said huskily.

Brick did not respond, simply arching an eyebrow at her before noticing the line of cars being held up in his rearview mirror. He pressed on his gas, moving forward to place their order, going to the first window to pay and then the second to receive their food. The redhead handed the bag of food and cup holder containing their sodas and ice cream to Blossom before peeling out of the parking lot.

Blossom opened up the bag, breathing in the unsettling but appetizing smell of grease and fried foods. She dipped a hand into the bag, attempting to grab a loose French fry but was stopped by Brick's hand reaching out to the bag and shutting it.

"No eating yet."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like eating in my truck."

"Then what's the point of going to the drive-thru?"

"Convenience," he grinned at her, taking his eyes off the road for a split second.

Blossom rolled her eyes, placing the bag of food by her feet and keeping the cup holder on her lap. She directed the AC vent towards her thighs, hoping it will keep the ice cream cold.

"So where are we going then?"

"You'll see."

She pursed her lips at his response but decided not to pester. Instead, Blossom analyzed the vehicle she was in.

The interior of the truck was impeccably clean. There was not a single speck of dirt she could find. Despite being a dated car, Blossom could tell the upholstery was recently updated. It was a smooth, cream-colored leather covering the only two seats of the two-door truck. Besides the new leather seating and cleanliness, Brick did not have anything else crowding his truck. Only a tree-shaped air freshener giving off the scent of cinnamon was on display.

From that, Blossom could tell Brick was either not a fan of clutter, took pride in his truck, or was not a sentimental guy. Furthermore, it could be all three. She was not sure but perhaps she could find out.

After a ten minute drive and the ice cream melting a little, Brick took a sharp turn down a dirt road. Blossom had to grab onto the roof handle of the truck to brace herself.

"Sorry," he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the road, driving down on the pathway steadily.

Blossom took notice to the setting of the sun in the distance and closeness of airplanes taking off in the air. It almost seemed like they were close enough that they would be able to touch them if they stretched out their arms.

"Wait… are we at the Citiesville airport?" she asked with confusion.

"Sorta," Brick answered sheepishly. "We're at the back of it."

"Isn't this closed off?"

"For transpassing? Oh yeah," he nodded. "But I've been coming here since I was seventeen."

"Three years isn't a good amount time to just assume you're above the law," Blossom argued, growing anxious with the thought of being caught. Her mother would be absolutely furious.

Brick glanced at her for a second, one hand on the steering wheel, his jaw tight as he spoke with no emotion, "I'm twenty-three, Blossom."

Blossom's eyes widened, recalling the conversation she had with Boomer on the lake's beach. He was a senior when she was a freshmen in high school.

He was four years older than her.

"Oh."

They traveled down the road in silence until a chainlink fence was in front of them. Brick softly pressed on the brakes, parking his truck. His eyes drifted to his rearview mirror as he opened his door.

"Bring the food," he said to her before exiting the truck and closing his door.

She raised an eyebrow at this but followed his actions out the car with the bag of food and cup holder in hand. Blossom walked to the back of his truck where he had climbed into the cargo bed, standing three more feet taller than usual.

His ruby-colored eyes looked down to her as his hand was presented towards her, "Come on."

Blossom wrapped her free hand around his, feeling the rough skin of his palms as she stepped one leg into the cargo bed. She took notice to the great amount of heat his hand transmitted, warming her entire arm. Swinging her other leg into the bed, she grinned at him.

"Why thank you."

He gave a single nod towards her, "Of course."

He took the cup holder from her, taking a seat in the cargo bed. His back against the window that looked into the truck and his long legs stretched out, almost taking up all of the small space. Brick patted the space next to him, signaling for Blossom to join him.

She chuckled to herself, doing such. Once the redhead took a seat, she unwrapped the paper bag containing their food, handing Brick his food and placing her's in her lap. Brick placed the cup holder in between his legs, giving Blossom her soda.

For a moment, the two ate silently. Side-by-side, their shoulders a few inches apart. Planes passed overhead as the stars shined from above. To Blossom, the scenery seemed like something out of a movie. She could not help but stare up at the dazzling lights overhead.

The redhead heard Brick chuckled softly, tossing her attention to him as she popped a fry into her mouth.

"What?" She asked after chewing.

"Nothing," he responded, shaking his head and taking a sip of his soda.

"It's not if you're laughing."

"Trust me… it's nothing."

"Fine…"

Blossom watched as Brick continued to eat, getting a good look at him for the first time that night. He had changed out of his jumpsuit before leaving, now wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt. The grease stain on his forehead was gone as well as any that were on his hands. A red hat, the same from Friday night, was placed backwards on his head, masking his messy red hair.

His face was illuminated from the various lights of planes flying above, softening his appearance.

When she looked at him like this, he did not seem to be a stranger. Nor did he seem twenty-three.

Instead, she felt as if he was an old high school friend. Someone she grew up knowing her whole life. A person that she could trust.

"Ever since I moved to Townsville, I've always came here to clear my mind," he said softly, his red eyes twinkling with the lights. "It's the only good thing here if I'm going to be honest."

"Moved here?" Blossom asked, nudging his shoulder. "I could have sworn you were a native Townsvillian."

"Is that what you really call yourselves?" Brick grimaced.

"My mom is trying to get it kick-started. So in a couple of months, we will."

"Of course."

"So where are you originally from?"

"I'm actually from Pineville, Louisiana," Brick revealed as he began to eat his vanilla ice cream covered in chocolate sauce.

"Louisiana?" She repeated, now understanding why he spoke with a slow draw. He had a watered-down Cajun accent, which must have loosened over time since it was not thick anymore. "I almost went there this summer."

"Not for Pineville, I'm sure."

"No. I was planning on going to New Orleans. Go see Bourbon street and the French Quarter." Brick glanced at her, laughing quietly. She narrowed her eyes at him, "What?"

"I just can't picture you walking around the boozed-up mess that is Bourbon Street."

"And why not?" Blossom challenged.

Brick paused, eating a big spoonful of his ice cream before pointing his spoon at her, "Because you're a Bellum."

Blossom scrunched her nose in response, "Okay. That's twice you've pointed out my last name. What's the deal?"

She watched as he contemplated, his eyes focusing on the ice cream in front of him like it was the most important thing, "...Politics are a nasty game where reputation matters over everything," Brick explained. "I'm sure you agree?"

"Yeah…" she exhaled, understanding now what he meant by her visiting Bourbon Street. It did not explain the comment for earlier, however. "I do."

"Besides… Louisiana isn't anything special. Just an overglorified swamp," he said flatly, crumpling the paper bag placed between them while placing his trash inside of it.

"Not a fan?"

"Not in the slightest bit."

"Why did you came to Townsville then?" She asked, both eyebrows raised. "You think the smallest town where nothing ever happens is better?"

"I didn't have a choice on coming to Townsville," he mumbled.

"Oh…"

Brick sighed to himself, "I already told you I have a foster dad, right?"

Blossom nodded, remembering the picture in his office, "Yeah."

"Well… I didn't exactly have the grandest childhood. My mom died from complications giving birth and my dad was in and out of prison. Because of that, I was placed in foster care," he confessed steadily. "But I was a rebellious kid and caused a whole lot of fucking problems all the time. So I was always constantly changing foster parents. Then I was thirteen and I met Morris Jojo—or as I like to call him, Mojo… He was the first person who actually treated me like I mattered and I took notice to it and respected him for it. Afterward, we just… meshed together and he became my permanent foster home."

"Wow… Brick, I…" Blossom could not formulate any further words. Instead, she unintentionally placed her hand on top of his' in comfort. The heat of his skin becoming an adjustment to her.

"It's fine," he exhaled. "Anyways, when I turned sixteen, something changed with Mojo. All of sudden, he wanted to come back to his hometown. Townsville, Arizona… He ended up getting legal guardianship over me and then packed up all of our things. In less than four months, I'm in a new town with my 'new' dad… Took me awhile, but I adjusted and Mojo took over his shop once again. It was almost like we were a family..." Brick trailed, his eyes drifting to Blossom's hand. He cleared his throat, moving his hand away from hers.

Blossom frowned at him, "Did something happened between Mojo and you?"

She could tell Brick was hesitating to answer her question, his jaw shifting with unease, "No… I did decide to finish the paperwork for changing my last name to his' when I turned eighteen, if that's any indication."

"And he trusts you with his business," Blossom pointed out, a smile on her face.

"Yeah… But it wasn't like he had any other option. I dropped out in the middle of my senior year and it wasn't like I was going to get any job opportunities because of it… All I knew was how to fix cars and Mojo knew this, so he let me take over."

Blossom raised an eyebrow at the knowledge of him dropping out. A fact that surprised her, to say the least.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them before speaking, "Why did you drop out?"

Brick chuckled to himself, shaking his head, "Can't get enough of interrogating me, can you?"

"Hey, you're the one who started opening up first."

"You do have a point," he replied. His eyes breaking away from the sky to glance over to Blossom, a crooked smile on his face. "Why do you care anyway? I'm not important."

"For starters, I'm a naturally curious person," Blossom listed with a grin. "Second, who says you're not important? I believe you are."

"Huh," Brick snorted. His eyes focused on her as if he was seeing her for the first time. As if he was seeing the real her.

"What?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "It's nothing."

A silence fell between the two, their eyes daring for the other to speak first. Blossom inhaled a sharp breath, deciding it would be her.

"So are you planning to be a mechanic for the rest of your life?" Blossom asked. She widened her eyes, realizing how harsh the question may have seemed, adding, "Not to be rude or anything. I'm just generally…"

"Curious?"

"Yes."

Brick's face remained unreadable. Not a single emotion attached to him.

"It's the only thing I can do since I don't have a degree, so yeah… I guess so."

"I don't think that's necessarily true," Blossom replied. "You can get your GED and then go to the community college."

"It's not that simple."

"Actually, it is," she pushed. "I can even help you study if you want."

Brick shook his head, signaling his disagreement, "Thank you but that type of opportunity for me passed a long time ago."

"I don't get it."

"What's there not to get? Life is fucking unfair but you just have to deal with it."

"Yeah—"

"Look, Blossom. I'm not like you. I never had the option of going to college or any type of that shit. So drop it."

"Okay…"

Brick darted his eyes to her, his chest growing heavy at the sight of her disappointment. He sighed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm sorry… that was out of line."

"No… you're right. I did grow up pretty privileged," she replied somberly. "It took me going to MIT to figure that out."

"The nerds broke you down?"

"If you're going to say they were nerds, then you're basically saying I was one."

"I don't know you well even to make that statement but… we'll see," he grinned.

Blossom felt her cheeks burn a little, a soft smile on her face as she continued, "Anyways…"

"So why are you here and not there, anyway?" He asked.

Blossom froze, "I—I don't–Why are you asking that?"

"You got to ask your questions, I get to ask mine."

The redhead slumped her shoulders in defeat, sighing to herself, "Fine… I… Let's just say I can't go back there. Ever again."

"You dropped out, didn't you?"

"What? How?" Blossom paused, noticing the amusing grin on Brick's face.

"That was the same type of shit I tried telling Boomer and Butch when I dropped out at South High."

"Oh."

"How does..." he coughed subtlety to himself before continuing. "How does your mom feel about this?"

Blossom raised her eyebrows, unsure as to why Brick seemed to be quite curious about her mom the entire night, "She doesn't know. She thinks I'm here for only a semester to take a mental break… no one knows except for you."

"Well shit."

"Thanks," Blossom laughed. "Just the type of response I wanted."

"What exactly am I suppose to say?" He asked, joining her in laughing. His laughter was as deep as his voice and was rough around the edges.

"Nothing. It was exactly the response I wanted."

Brick rolled his eyes but a grin was still attached to his face, "You're so funny."

"I can be."

"You sure? I couldn't tell."

"I guess we don't have the same sense of humor then."

"I guess not," Brick grinned, his eyes shining from Blossom smiling softly at him. There was a magnetic pull within them, drawing out the need for them to be closer. Telling him to reach out to her.

But he resisted for various reasons, shifting his eyes to anywhere that was not her.

Blossom pursed her lips, upset by his actions. "Did I do—"

"Why did you drop out?" He interjected, startling her.

Once she recovered, Blossom sighed to herself, "My ex-boyfriend tricked me into giving him one of my papers, in which he sold it and got me caught for academic dishonesty."

"What a little fucker."

"Oh, that wasn't the only thing that was little," Blossom smirked as Brick let out a hard laugh. "Anyways, I decided to drop out instead of letting them investigate because it was less chaos… especially for my mom."

"Right…" Brick muttered, his tone coming off roughly. "So you just dropped out and came back to this shithole?"

"Not exactly. I spent the summer traveling the east coast. From Massachusetts and New York to Florida."

"You can afford that?"

"Well, I had my freshmen year all paid for because of scholarships, so I had an untouched college fund that wasn't going to be used anymore."

Brick arched an eyebrow at her, "You're not much of the golden child everyone makes you out to be."

"If they say I am, they're talking about the old me," Blossom corrected. "Before I let a guy dictate my life."

"Blossom…" Brick pleaded. There was so much concern in his tone that it created a large amount of guilt in her body. She did not get why he would plead with her. To not tell him how stupid she was?

"I get it… I made a dumb mistake," Blossom murmured. "But that's what I'm good at, I guess… I should have seen it coming anyway. He would manipulate and control me so I became dependent on him."

Brick's fist tightened at the thought, forming a white-knuckle grip, "I already hate this guy."

"I do too... but I guess it is a good thing that it did happen," she acknowledged. "It taught me a lot about myself and what I want from a relationship."

"You still want to be in one of those? After everything that happened?" Brick questioned with doubt.

"Why so surprised?"

"I don't know. Usually, when people go through a traumatic experience like that, they swear off relationships."

"Well, I'm not going to dive into one blindly but if the opportunity does present itself, I'm not going to let it prevent me."

"Huh. I kind of like that."

"Thanks. It took me awhile to realize it. If I didn't, I don't think I would be able to trust people after what he did… He took advantage of my weaknesses… like how I was going to be alone and my inability to discuss the past."

"What is so scary about being alone? You were alone all summer."

"I'm fine with being physically alone… it's the loneliness of knowing you have no one in your life at all, that's what he threatened," she confessed softly. "I was exactly there this summer… and I realized it's not that bad as I thought it was but it's not best for my mental health."

"I get it," Brick nodded, arching an eyebrow. "But I would also like to point out that you can't avoid the past. It's the only thing that's inescapable."

"I just… I don't like talking or thinking about it but I need to get over it and open myself up more so something like that doesn't happen again."

"Well, you're making progress. Right now actually," he chuckled. It was not in a condescending way; it was directed more towards the irony of the situation.

Blossom paused, realizing he was right. Brick got her to open up with just a cheap meal and beautiful scenery. It was like they were a pair of old friends catching up after years apart.

It did feel like that. As if she already knew him. She knew all his secrets and flaws, and he knew hers'. Like there was an established connection between them, in some weird way.

A part of Blossom was a bit freaked out by this feeling. The calmness and comfort around him. The easiness of their conversations. The sense of feeling they could be best friends except, Blossom knew, they would not be just best friends.

There was a unspoken mutual attraction between them. A curiosity surrounding each other added on with a magneticed pull drawing them to each other despite not normally doing so with someone else.

Blossom did not understand how she felt this way around him. All those emotions with only knowing of his existence for about a week. It was eerily familar to how she felt about going back to Townsville. She needed to be close to Brick, just like she needed to come back.

With all those feelings, Blossom did feel like she was right for believing earlier in the night that she could trust him. There was nothing putting in doubts on why she should not.

Not her mind.

Not her heart.

Nor her gut.

"Yeah. I am," Blossom smiled. "And I did not even realize it."

"Not so hard, is it?" Brick replied, smiling lazily.

"I don't know about that…"

"You'll see later that it's not."

"Making a promise?"

"I don't make promises, sweetheart." Blossom raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to reply but Brick beat her to it, "So what's the plan after your one semester home?"

"I'm not sure," she mumbled. "Probably try to get into another school. If that does not work out, maybe I'll travel again. That seems to be the only thing I'm actually good."

"Any places in mind?"

"Backpacking through Europe sounds quite appealing."

Brick snorted to himself, "I wish."

"You want to travel?"

"You really think I want to be stuck in Townsville?"

"Then why don't you leave?"

"We both know it's more complicated than that, Blossom," he said firmly. "As much as you try, it always draws you back in."

Blossom sighed to herself, "You're right… that's actually why I came back. I just had this strange… _calling_. Like I had to come back or else."

Brick's eyebrows raised for a split second before reverting back to a neutral expression, "Interesting."

"Speaking of strangeness," Blossom approached, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "The reason I wanted to talk to you was because of Friday night."

"Alright…" he replied, his voice coming out more like a question.

"What exactly do you remember from that night?" she asked.

"I remember showing up, being surprised you were there, starting a fire for Bubbles, us walking on the beach… Then Butch and Boomer got shitfaced and I had to drive them home around one."

"Oh."

"Why do you ask?" he questioned, his ruby-colored eyes peaking with interest.

"I think my memory is a little fuzzy from the wine coolers I had," she answered, recalling Robin's side of the story.

Brick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "But you didn't drink."

"I…" she paused, confirming to herself that Robin did, in fact, lie to her. "I had some beforehand."

"I didn't know you were a drinker."

"Only on special occasions because my mom hates it and thinks everyone will sell me out for doing so."

Brick chuckled to himself, not commenting on her statement. Instead, he diverted his attention to the stars overhead. Blossom's eyes scanned over him, still not willing to finish picking his brain. She wanted to continue the conversation about his future. Blossom did not want Brick thinking he could not achieve the dreams or plans for the future he had despite the odds being stacked against him.

She reached out for his hand again, cupping his with her's. This gained his attention, his face contorted with confusion, shock, and… disappointment? Blossom was not sure but she did not question it as she spoke to him.

"You know… you shouldn't dismiss your future. If you want, I can help you find some options… We can get you out of Townsville."

His eyes clouded over with conflict, his entire body paralyzed by Blossom's offer. "I…"

"It's okay," she whispered, patting his hand. "Give it some time to think it over."

"Why? It's just going to be a waste of time," he scoffed, his eyebrows furrowed in anger before slumping his shoulders in defeat, having accepted his reality a very long time ago. "I'm a lost cause."

"Not in my eyes," Blossom smiled softly despite her hand feeling as if it was on fire from his touch.

"You barely know me."

"True, but it doesn't mean I can't see potential in you."

"How inspirational."

"I got more of that if you let me help you."

Brick huffed to himself, a half-turned smile on his face, "I'm starting to think you're a pest."

"But you like it?"

He paused for a second, pondering over her question. Despite the nagging voice telling him the numerous reasons why not, Brick nodded.

"Unfortunately."

"More like you're so fortunate."

"Corny."

Blossom shrugged, "You're right. Not one of my best."

Brick's eyes drifted to her hand again, surprised to see she has yet to remove it from his. Instead of saying anything or moving his hand way again, Brick remained mum, letting himself become enthralled with the new planes setting off or returning from different destinations.

Blossom noticed this, blushing intensely but was glad Brick was not paying attention to her anymore. She decided to do the same as him, taking in the roar of the plane's engine and sparkling light of the stars.

However, she focused all her attention on the heat of Brick's hand. Her mind crossed with a form of deja vu from the same intense temperature radiating from a person's touch.

It was similar to when she touched Bubbles in the diner a few days ago. The only difference was Bubbles was icy to the touch while contact with Brick made Blossom feel like her hand was experiencing its own heatwave.

And if Bubbles' cold touch produced ice, then what could Brick's boiling skin create?

She was unable to answer her question as Brick opened his mouth again, his deep voice becoming distinctive to her now.

"...You want to tell me what happened at MIT or you still don't like talking about the past?"

Blossom furrowed her eyes, considering his question. In any normal situation before everything happened with Henry, she would have said no. She would have stated they barely know each other and it was too personal.

But she had to stop running away from the past and her mistakes.

The strange fullness in her chest helped her to do so, telling her to confess to him. It pushed her to be open with him because somehow, it told her it would be easy like it was earlier in the conversation. Blossom felt like telling Brick would be like she already told him the truth.

It was destined.

"Yeah," she sighed, smiling weakly. Her mind still dictated around the heat of Brick's hand as she recalled her year at MIT. "Let's see. It all started when I was running late for a biology exam…"

* * *

 _Date unknown_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Timing Unknown..._

There was a furious knock at the door. It was loud enough to wake her up from her upstairs bedroom.

Blossom rubbed the sleep from her eyes, slowly walking down her stairs. She glanced out the blinds in the entryway of her home, confused to see a pair of sheriffs on her porch.

She opened the door, an eyebrow raised, "Can I help you?"

"You're Sara Bellum's daughter?" She nodded. The officer frowned, taking off the hat on his head, "I'm sorry to tell you this but there was a fire at city hall tonight… Your mom… she… she did not make it out..."

Her stomach immediately dropped as she fell to her knees. Tears flowed down her face like rapids of water. She covered her mouth to hide her sobs. A hand rubbed her shoulder as she blinked away tears to see the officer crouching down to comfort her.

"Why?" Blossom asked incoherently. "Why would… how could… I shouldn't…"

"Shhhh… take deep breaths."

Blossom did so, attempting to wipe away the tears from her cheeks but it seemed like they were always replaced by more.

Never leaving the back of her mind was the knowledge of who had done this. She knew exactly who caused this.

* * *

 _August 25th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Excuse me?"

Blossom blinked to herself, snapping out of the trance she was under. She wiped her cheek to see if the tears from her vision were real but found her skin to be dry, only to find some of the cheap concealer she used on the back of her hand. The paralyzing emotions still circulated through veins. Her adrenaline at a high while her skull was pounding harder than her accelerated heart rate.

It was the second vision she had in the past five days. This one felt more realistic though. In a sense, Blossom knew she should be more concern but she decided to brush it off, believing it to be another trick her mind was playing on her like the shadowy man at the diner.

However, deep in her soul, Blossom knew something was not right. That something larger was at works here and there was nothing she could control.

She lightly rubbed her temples, frustrated by the return of her powerful migrates. Blossom was beginning to believe there was a correlation between the headaches and her "powers", just like Bubbles and her low body temperature or Boomer and his hydrophobic skin.

"Are you alright, Ms. Bellum?"

Blossom glanced up at the worker behind the desk, smiling weakly at them. "Yes. I'm sorry. I just blanked out for a second."

"It's fine," the person reassured, looking over at the computer screen in front of her. "I'll take the liberty of repeating myself and telling you that you are all set for class registration."

The redhead nodded, trying to appear she was excited but could not commit fully. A few months ago, she was at MIT to study biomedical engineering. Now she was registering for night classes at Townsville Community College.

Blossom did not want to knock community colleges as they could be a way better option than attending a four-year university. It was the reality of how she did not ever see herself here. The disappointment of the drastic change to her future was what upset her.

Her new plan was to attend night classes and then attempt to enroll at CalTech in the spring or maybe next fall. If all else fails, she was going to purchase a one-way ticket to Europe like she told Brick the night before. She was not sure yet on what to do and considering everything that is going on at moment with her powers and the mysterious night at the lake, Blossom could not see herself leaving Townsville anytime soon anyways.

Brick said it the best. There was always going to be something pulling them back into Townsville. Whether they know what it was or not.

"Sounds perfect," Blossom replied, taking a step away from the counter, wrapping her hands firmly on the lanyard containing her keys. "Thank you."

After a brief discussion about her schedule and handing her a folder with the necessary information she would need, Blossom left the community college's enrollment office and into the blistering heat of the night.

She chose to do night classes, figuring no one would notice her since there were fewer students. Therefore, Blossom would not have to deal with questions as to why she was there.

It was a quick and simple solution to at least help her further her education.

She had to cut across the campus of the college to head towards the parking lot. From what Blossom could see, there was not much action happening here at night. It was just what she wanted.

Taking a sharp turn at the corner of the building, Blossom felt her shoulder smack into another, knocking her back a little. She caught herself, maintaining her standing and casting apologetic eyes to the person she ran into—who was picking up their notebook from the ground—but froze at the sight of the individual.

"Sorry, I…" They paused, their green eyes widening in shock at Blossom's appearance.

"Buttercup…"

Blossom did not know what to say.

Well, actually, she did. Blossom wanted to wrap her arms around Buttercup and express her excitement over the dark-haired girl's change of mind towards academics.

However, she did not because of... _obvious reasons_.

Instead, the redhead stood awkwardly, shifting her weight and waiting for Buttercup to say somerhing to her.

But she did not.

Buttercup threw her a hard glare before walking past her, onto the campus of the community college, leaving Blossom alone in her thoughts.

* * *

 _August 25th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

In the darkest corner of Townsville, five males gathered under the sole street light. Smoke clouding the air from their cigarettes as they spoke intensely to each other.

"What are we going to fucking do? We don't have a hide out anymore," Andrew Grubblin, or better known by his peers as Grubber, huffed.

"I suggest we take over city hall. That will really stick it to the man," Snake—real name being Leroy Easton–suggested, his lisp extending the syllables of the letter "s".

"Nah. We should move to Citiesville. They have more money anyways," Big Billy—last name Thomas—countered.

"Are you forgetting that Citiesville is Amboa Boys territory, dip-shit?" Lil' Arturo—full name being Arturo Diego Ortiz-Rogriduez—retorted.

"Come on. We can totally run them out of there."

"I don't know, man. That's some serious ass competition."

"I'm telling you. We can… What do you think Ace?"

Four pairs of eyes landed on their leader who has remained silent during the entire conversation. The lanky male flicked his cigarette to the ground, rubbing the heel of his boot to extinguish it. He stepped into the street light, his sunglasses refracturing the brightness. The four individuals around him gasped to themselves, shocked by his appearance.

"Ace. Are you okay?" Snake questioned.

"Yeah, man. Your skin is… greenish," Big Billy pointed out.

Ace smirked to himself, "I'll explain that later. But for now, I'll tell you what we're going to do."

"Take over City hall?"

"Make Citiesville ours?"

"Even better," he grinned wickedly. "We're going to turn this entire town upside by igniting a war they can not ignore until we find out who burned down our factory."

"Ooooo. I like this idea," Big Billy agreed. The other three nodding along with him.

"Good cause Townsville wouldn't know what fucking hit them when we're done."


	3. The Lightning

_November 7th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _5 years ago..._

The lake was calm. The water seemed like a flat surface. As if she could walk out on it. As if she would not drown if she tried.

The thought of how drowning did not sound so bad ran through her mind but she rejected those notions immediately.

These irrational thoughts have become a familiar pattern for her. Death creeping up on her at every turn nowadays. The inescapable slowly chipping away at her sanity.

The toxic cycle began with her father's death and never seeming to disappear.

It has been about eight months since her dad's last day alive and she was still reeling. The counselors at her school have repeatedly stated she needed to move forward. She was allowed to still grieve but if she continued down this path of instability, then there was no way she would graduate.

She found them to be full of bullshit since she was only a freshmen and she would have three more years to make it up. They were simply trying to scary into behaving in the way they wanted.

However, their words would get to her from time to time.

That was how she ended up at the lake. After a volatile meeting with one of the counselors about getting her act together, she blew off meeting her friends for lunch to calm down and clear her head.

Except, it was not doing anything to help her. In fact, it was making her feel worse.

She frowned to herself, picking up a stone and flicking her wrist for it to skid across the water. She watched as it bounced five times before sinking into the dark blue water of the lake.

And then another rock skid on the surface of the water, going for about eight leaps. She furrowed her eyebrows, snapping her neck around to see who else was there.

She let out a sigh of relief when she saw it was Butch.

It was a common belief among her classmates at North High that her best friends were Blossom and Bubbles but in her mind, the two were more like sisters to her. They would get on her nerves all the time but she would always have their backs as if they were blood.

Now Butch.

He was her best friend. It has been this way since she was three and he was four. Before she even met Bubbles and Blossom in kindergarten.

Butch was the first person she shared any good news with—like when she passed the seventh grade after almost failing a majority of her classes. He was the first person other than her parents she has openly cried in front of.

Butch was also the first person she told about her dad...

"What are you doing here?" She asked, making space for him on the rock to sit.

"I could ask you the same thing, Buttercup," he replied, taking up the spot next to her.

"I'm sure you heard about the shit between me and Ms. Felton."

"I did."

"So that answers your question. Now you answer mine."

"Blossom and Bubbles got worried and started a search party to find you," Butch confessed with an amused grin. "They sent Boomer to Otto's, while they figured you went home."

Buttercup snorted to herself, "Like I want to be anywhere near my fucking mom."

Butch chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair, "I knew you would be here. Even when we were in elementary school, you would sneak off to here when things got too heavy."

"No, I don't," Buttercup argued, narrowing her eyes at him.

"It's fine," he shrugged. "Don't believe me."

She lightened her expression, slumping her shoulders while letting out a deep breath, "I don't know if I can take it anymore, Butch."

"I know," he sighed, lowering his head to where she could not see his eyes anymore. "I… I know."

"I just… I don't know what to do… My dad… He was everything to me."

Butch nodded, "Your dad was the fucking best."

Buttercup let out a small laugh at his comment. Butch glanced up at her, his eyes peering intensely at her with a weak smile. She tried to read them, attempting to figure out what was processing in his mind but Buttercup could not figure it out.

Was it a caring glance?

Concern?

Adoration?

Pity?

Love?

She could not tell.

Buttercup darted her eyes away from Butch, staring out at the lake as before, "He was…"

She could hear Butch take a faint gulp before speaking, his hand brushing against her knee, "So um… you know that my mom died when I was like two. I virally have no memory of her besides what Fuzzy tells me… She loved the ballet and the smell of the grass after it just rained. Her dream in life was to own her own bookstore and teach kids how to read… Just little things like that. And… And as crazy as it may sound, I miss her a whole fucking lot but _I didn't even know her._ I don't have a physical memory of what she looked like beside photos. But it is something I have to deal with on a day-to-day basis because that's how grief works."

"Butch…" she murmured, unable to find any more words.

"You're going to deal with this your entire life. So fuck what Felton has to say because she doesn't knows shit, okay?" Buttercup nodded as Butch continued on, "But you need to try… Try to be present. To live. Because if you don't, then you lose yourself." He placed his hand on her knee, capturing her attention as she stared into his emerald green eyes. "And I can't bear the thought of losing you, Buttercup."

Buttercup bumped her shoulder lightly against his, a smile she was unable to mask spreading across her face, "You're so cheesy, Butch… but thank you. It does make me feel better."

"Of course. I would do anything for you," he grinned before catching himself and clearing his throat. Butch quickly removed his hand from her knee, rising to his feet, "We should get back to school."

"You want to go back to school?"

"You got a point," he grinned. "You got any ideas?"

"Cheese fries at Otto's always makes me feel better."

"Then we shall eat a shit ton of cheese fries."

Buttercup chuckled to herself, standing to stretch, "What would I do without you, Butch?"

"Go insane."

"Perhaps," she grinned. "And that's why you're my best friend."

"Yeah," he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I'm your best friend…"

* * *

 _August 26th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

It was mid-afternoon and Buttercup did not start her shift at Ralph's until six. This gave her a good three or four hours to do whatever she liked. Buttercup was for sure not going to spend it at her house with her mom—today was her day off from managing the salon in town. Instead, the dark-haired girl went to the single place in Townsville in which has become a safe haven for her.

 _Batter Up._

Walking into the small bakery, Buttercup was instantly greeted with the smell of freshly baked bread. The heat from the oven warming her soul in a delightful way instead of the unbearable temperature from outside.

The bakery was decorated with a baseball theme—matching their name appropriately. Blue pinstriped wallpaper covered the walls, which were lined with vintage photos of baseball players from the fifties and sixties. Each of the five tables in the restaurant had an image relating to the sport printed into the wood, such a glove or a bat. Even the pastries were named after famous baseball players.

As she entered, Buttercup found Butch behind the counter, kneading some dough. Flour covered his hands while a few speckles were on his forehead and his apron. His muscles, which he has acquired from the continuous labor at the bakery, contouring with each movement.

Buttercup swiftly took out her phone, snapping a photo of her boyfriend at work. Little moments like these always made her heart flutter, which was why she wanted a memento of it. Even if she already has twenty pictures that were similar to the one she just took.

"Trying to catch me off guard again?" Butch grinned, looking up at her.

Buttercup moved closer to him, with only the counter separating them, "Maybe." She leaned over, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "So what's the special of the week?"

"Well, Fuzzy is in this weird coconut kick, so he was dead set on coconut rum cakes and dubbing them the 'David Ortiz'."

"Rum?" Buttercup asked eagerly, wiggling her eyebrows.

Butch chuckled to himself, continuing to knead the dough, "It cooks out, babe."

She rolled her eyes, "Of course… I'll take a Babe Ruth then."

"You got it," he winked, taking a break from kneading and going to the pastry display case. Grabbing two chocolate cookies, he handed them to Buttercup with an eyebrow raised. "Is this why you came in?"

Buttercup broke a piece of one of the cookies, chewing into the warm, oozing chocolate that melted on her tongue. A smile spreaded on her face by the fact of Butch giving her two instead of one. It was something he has always done since he started working at the bakery at the age of thirteen. Despite the amount of time, it still had the same effect on Buttercup. The undeniable feeling of being special and loved.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I mean, why else would I be here?"

"Oh, I don't know," he replied with a lightness, leaning over the counter, wiggling his eyebrows. "You might have wanted to see your incredibly hot boyfriend."

"That could be another reason," Buttercup teased, breaking off another piece of her cookie, feeding it to Butch.

"It better be," Butch answered after chewing. "Is it bad that I've already had almost ten cookies today? I couldn't stop eating them."

"Are you going through puberty going?" She teased. "Or maybe you're growing some more?"

"I fucking hope not. Being six-five isn't as fun as everyone makes it out to be. My knees ache and I constantly hit my head on ceilings in any small room."

"Wow. You really know how to turn a girl on."

"Please. We both know what I'm capable of doing," he expressed with a wink.

"Then why don't you show me after my shift?"

"Can't. I have my astronomy class tonight."

She nodded, shifting her weight, Butch's comment initiated a selective memory for her from the night before.

"So I ran into Blossom last night," Buttercup presented casually.

Butch blinked at her, "Okay?"

"At the community college," she clarified.

"Ohhhh... Strange," Butch remarked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"Forget about strange," Buttercup grumbled. "First, she thinks she can waltz right back in town, believing everyone has forgiven her. And now she wouldn't stop fucking showing up everywhere I go."

"Babe, it's a small town."

"Not helping, Butch," she retorted, narrowing her eyes.

Butch held up his hands as a sign of no harm, "I'm just pointing it out."

"Whatever. You would say that since you're chummy with her again."

"Well, she was my friend too and I did miss her."

"But I'm your girlfriend."

"I know that, Buttercup." He paused, grinning to himself, "Trust me, I definitely know that… but I'm not going to root for some petty grudge."

"It is not petty."

Butch stared at her blankly, "Buttercup. We both know that how you reacted to Blossom is completely different from how you treated me."

"That's because it was a different situation."

"It was?"

"Yes. I love you. Blossom was just…"

"Just what? A friend?" He asked, snorting to himself. "She meant more than that to you. This honestly comes down to you, Buttercup. You should try to give her another chance. She is obviously back for a reason and it could help if she had all her friends back… Plus, there's the weird shit going on between us with the whole 'powers' thing. It would be best to have her with us than against us."

Buttercup sighed to herself, realizing Butch was right, "I suppose I'll try talking to her."

"Great…" Butch grinned. "I would also like to clarify something." He reached out for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers, pulling her closer to the counter. Their faces were a few inches apart. His warm breath against her ear as he whispered, "I will always be Team Buttercup. I want you to remember that."

Buttercup smiled softly to herself, tilting her head to capture his lips against hers. She tasted the chocolate off of his lips as she kissed him deeply until they were both left breathlessly. She traced her free hand against his cheek, taking in the beauty of the love in his eyes, "And I will always be Team Butch."

"You better be," he chuckled, tapping her nose, leaving a small dot of white powder on the tip of her nose. "Because that would be pretty fucked up if you weren't."

Buttercup rolled her eyes playfully, pulling him into another kiss.

* * *

 _May 3rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _4 years ago..._

It was prom night. The theme was casino royale, transforming the ballroom in City Hall into a pseudo Caesar Palace. The seating areas appeared as blackjack tables and playing cards in all sizes were to be seen everywhere.

Per North High's rules, only seniors and juniors were allowed to buy tickets. No sophomores and freshmen unless they were invited.

That was how Buttercup, Blossom, and Bubbles—who were sophomores—were able to attend due to Butch and Boomer—juniors—buying their tickets for them. Blossom and Bubbles coordinated with Boomer to be his two dates for the night while Buttercup and Butch went together. All five deciding it was better if they went with friends instead of the boys finding dates.

Never mind that Boomer was actually happy with who his dates were—mainly because he could say Bubbles was his date. Boomer had informed Butch earlier in the day that he was going to finally tell Bubbles how he felt. In the back of his mind, Butch did not believe the blond since he had a history of chickening out.

However, the idea of doing such a thing during prom did inspire Butch.

Perhaps tonight would be the night he would be able to get a few things off his chest.

His green eyes scanned across the ballroom but having no avail. Instead, he only caught wind of Blossom's orange hair by the snack table. Butch quickly joined her, grabbing a few pretzels from a snack bowl before talking.

"Have you seen Buttercup?"

Blossom raised an eyebrow, curious by the urgency in his voice. "I think I saw her on the dance floor—"

"Okay thank you—"

"Dancing with Ace," Blossom finished, grimacing at the fact.

Butch paused, trying to see if he heard Blossom correctly. "Ace? Like Ace _Ace_?"

"There's only one, Butch."

"And–And how were they dancing?"

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, taking a sip of the punch she held in her hands, "Just normal, I guess. High pace for the energetic songs. Slow for the romantic songs."

Butch's body immediately felt defeated by the news, his face unable to mask the emotion. Blossom began to ask him what was wrong but he cut her off.

"I think I left something in my car," he murmured before leaving Blossom alone at the table, confused by their interaction.

* * *

"I'm so fucking tired," Buttercup huffed, taking a seat at the table the group of five were occupying for the night. Her body covered in sweat from dancing continuously for an hour or so.

"You were dancing pretty hard out there," Blossom laughed, squatting down to the chair next to her. "With Ace of all people."

"Hey, Copular knows how to have a good time," she defended.

"Or there's more to it," the redhead teased.

"You think I like Ace?" Buttercup scoffed.

"It's pretty obvious."

"Dude, he's like a shady cousin to me. There's no way I would ever want to date him."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Buttercup said firmly. "Besides, I don't even find him attractive."

"Oh well," Blossom shrugged, not believing Buttercup. "By the way, Butch was looking for you."

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, "Did he tell you why?"

"No, but he didn't seem alright. Before I can ask him what was up, he claimed that he left something in his car," the redhead explained. "I haven't seen him since."

The dark-haired girl immediately rose to her feet, feeling the sense of duty to check up on her best friend. "I'm gonna go find him."

"Want me to come?"

Buttercup shook her head no before heading towards the exit and leaving the ballroom. She searched through the crowded parking lot for Butch's dark green _Dodge Dart_ , hoping he had not left yet. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth as she found Butch sitting in his car, staring blankly at the exterior of city hall in a secluded corner by the dumpster.

Buttercup rushed to the passenger window, tapping her nails against the glass. Butch startled at the noise, jumping a little in his seat before reluctantly unlocking the doors. She chuckled to herself as she took a seat in the car before furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"Want to tell me why you're sitting here all alone like a fucking loser?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…" he sighed, running a hand through his dark curls. "It doesn't matter."

"Come on, Butch," she encouraged, punching his arm lightly. "With me, anything you say matters. That's what best friend are for."

"Yeah, well... maybe, I don't want to be best friends," Butch said quickly. His eye peering into her soul like a dagger to her heart.

"What? You can't be fucking serious, Butch? We've been best friends since we were practically toddlers."

"And I've…" he stopped himself, looking away from her. His hands wrapped firmly on the steering wheel of his car with a white-knuckle grip.

"You what?"

"I… I've been in love with you just as long," he muttered under his breath.

Buttercup blinked back in shock, her face contouring with confusion, "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

"I'm in love you, Buttercup," Butch said more firmly. "It's been that way before I even knew what love was. No matter how hard I try to find someone else, I always end up comparing them to you and they can never compete. Every time I make you smile or laugh, I can't help feeling like a clusterfuck of emotions. And I use to think, ' _No. There's no way I feel this way about Buttercup. She's my best friend_ ' but I cannot deny how there doesn't go a day where I don't think about you. When I don't think of ways to help cheer you up or how excited I am to see you even if I just saw you literally the day or hour before… It's fucking pathetic."

"No, it's not," Buttercup replied swiftly before even considering what it could imply. Her mind becoming a jumbled mess from processing this sudden information.

"Yes, it is… I already know you don't feel the same way," he murmured, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. "I know you like Ace. It's fine."

"Alright, I dance with him for nearly an hour and now everyone thinks I have a fucking crush on the guy?" Buttercup exasperated, narrowing her eyes at him. "Is that why you left?"

Butch nodded his head, "I told you. I'm fucking pathetic."

"Butch, you need to stop saying that," she argued, grabbing onto his shoulder. Her nails digging into his suit.

His eyes drifted to her hand and then to her face, "Why don't we just forget I said anything?" He suggested, his voice on edge. "This was just a mistake and it's better if we stay friends… it makes things less complicated."

Butch waited for Buttercup's reply. Tension between them consumed his car, thick enough to stop him from breathing. His vision fixated on electric reaction of his nerves from Buttercup's lack of removing her hand from him. Her eyes stared intensely at him before opening her mouth to state a simply but life-altering answer.

" _No_."

Butch furrowed his eyebrows at her, "Why not?"

"We can't just ignore this, Butch."

"I think we can."

"No," she repeated again.

Butch inhaled sharply, slowly becoming uneased by Buttercup's hand still being on his shoulder now, "There's literally no point in any of this… unless you feel the same way?"

Buttercup froze. Her mind drawing a blank. Only one question repeatedly being restated over and over again in her head.

Did she have feelings for Butch?

It was something she never even considered before. There has never been a moment in their ten plus years of friendship where Buttercup has taken a moment to consider any notions about them becoming something more. Perhaps that was an indication on she felt.

But now that the topic has been brought up, Buttercup was not grossed out by the idea. Nor did she feel like rejecting it.

In fact, as she met Butch's eyes when contemplating the decision, Buttercup could not deny the spark that was there. Maybe it was always there and she never realized it.

However, it did not tell her whether or not if she was in love with Butch. That was something Buttercup needed to figure out for herself with time and not with the pressure of giving an answer immediately.

The problem was, Buttercup was an impulsive person. She never spent too long to properly think things over because she would already carry out an action in which explained itself or she would speak without a thought. It was a habit that got her in a plethora of trouble in her life and tonight would be no exception.

On an impulse, feeling a pull between the two, Buttercup made her way over to Butch's side of the car, straddling him. Her hands cupped each side of his face, lowering her head to just about a hairs length to his. His breath quickening as both of their hearts thumped heavily into their chests.

"Buttercup…" Butch whispered, his hands firmly planted on her hips to keep her balance.

She did not respond. Instead, she hiked the train of her dress to her hips, letting her bare skin run against the fabric on his pants.

Buttercup began a trail of warm, inviting kisses down his jawline to his neck, while she fiddled with his belt, unbuckling it. Her hands unzipped his pants and pushing down it's waistband and elastic of his underwear, leaving him exposed to her.

"Buttercup," he said more firmly. Like it was a warning.

She did not care, steadily lowering down the driver's seat. Her fingers ran through his hair. Her hot breath against his ear, "Don't be shy."

Butch grunted to himself, moving his hands down to her thighs. His fingertips digging into her skin.

Their lips just out of reach, their foreheads pressed against each other. Both them hesitating for a moment as the realization of what was about to happen, crossing through their minds. It was readable from both of their green eyes, communicating silently with each other, coming to the mutual agreement of continuing on.

Buttercup arched her back, pushing aside the thin fabric of her underwear in which was in the away before slowly settling herself onto Butch. Their breaths becoming synchronized, their mouths an inch apart, teasing each other.

Finally, Butch could not take it any more, closing the gap between them and kissing her passionately. Her hips moving against him as he continued on with desperate but tender kisses that sent shivers down her spine, surrendering herself to the moment.

* * *

 _May 4th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _4 years ago..._

It tend to be the day afterward when Buttercup began to regret her impuslive decisions.

The day after prom being no exception.

She picked the perfect time for when she knew Butch would be working and unable to answer his phone. Buttercup felt like a little bitch for doing so but she could not bear having a conversation with him after everything they did the night before.

She waited for the ringing to stop and for the phone operator to tell her to leave a message.

And then, she did.

" _Hey, Butch… It's me. I, um… I think you were right. Maybe it is best if we pretend nothing happened between us. I just… I don't think I'm capable of being what you want. So yeah. If you're unwilling to be best friends still, I get it. But please know that you will always be my best friend despite what happened or what will happen… Alright, I think that's enough cheesiness for today… I hope things will work out and… I'm sorry. Bye._ "

* * *

 _August 27th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Buttercup was fuming. Her mom took it upon herself to suggest Buttercup should start paying rent since it seemed like the dark-haired girl was never going to move out. Buttercup took it as a subtle hint from her mom of no longer wanting her to live there, resulting in her to declare she would move out within two months from now if it was such a big deal. Of course, her mom denied wanting such a thing but Buttercup could see how her eyes lit up at the thought. That resulted in Buttercup to make the definitive answer. She was going to move out.

In two months, she would have a new place to call home.

If she was not so impulsive and opened her big mouth, none of this would have happened. She would not have to be looking for a place to live within only two months. She would not be trying to calculate how her minimum wage at Ralph's would help pay rent of any sorts.

Buttercup was starting to regret even enrolling in school as most of her paychecks went towards paying for her tuition.

It was all a shit show to her and all she wanted to do was complain to Butch. Have him reassure her and keep calm her like he always did. Butch was her rock, which was why Buttercup needed him desperately.

However, he was in Citiesville picking up supplies for the bakery until five in the afternoon.

This left Buttercup with one other option to cure her frustrations. Cheese fries from Otto's diner.

Entering the diner, a show tune was playing on the jukebox in the corner while there was barely anyone in the booths. Buttercup raised an eyebrow at this considering it was noon, which meant lunch rush, but she was not going to complain. The less of a crowd, the faster she would get her fries.

She placed her order with the waitress on shift, deciding to take a seat on one of the barstools in front the restaurant counter while waiting. Buttercup glanced around the building, scanning the few individuals who were there. Her eyes landed on a pair in the back booth.

Buttercup snorted to herself, unable to comprehend why they were here together. Why Blossom was eating lunch with Brick Jojo. From what Buttercup knew, the two redheads have never met but here they were having lunch with each other.

Her staring must have gotten Brick's attention as he pointed her out to Blossom. The redhead pursed her lips in consideration, turning back to the male in front of her for a good minute before presumably excusing herself. She hesitantly walked over to Buttercup, joining her at the counter.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Can I…" she trailed off, motioning towards the seat next to her.

Buttercup nodded. She made sure to suppress any emotions from displaying on her as Blossom sat next to her. An awkward silence fell between the two as neither wanted to be the first to talk.

"Since when are you friends with Brick Jojo?" She asked, surprising even herself for being the first to cave.

"It's sorta a long story. He fixed the AC in my car and then I think he—"

"I don't really care," Buttercup interjected despite it being a lie.

"Buttercup, I think he might—"

"Again. I don't care."

"Then why am I sitting here?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "You have a thing for making terrible decisions?"

Blossom rolled her eyes, "Yes, Buttercup. Continue to throw that in my face… I get it. I chose MIT over our pact and I'm sorry but there's nothing I can change about it. And I… I really miss our friendship, Buttercup. If I knew this was going to happen, I would have never gone to MIT."

"Too bad you couldn't look into the future," Buttercup sassed, narrowing her eyes at Blossom. However, deep down, she wanted to admit that she forgave her. That she missed her too. But Buttercup had too much pride to do so. Blossom froze at her comment, staring blankly at the green-eyed girl. Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows, waving her hand in front of Blossom's face, "Hello? Earth to Blossom?"

Blossom did not respond. Instead, she simply brushed her finger against the skin of Buttercup's hand. After doing so, the redhead appeared as if she was in another dimensional plane, a vision playing in her mind.

* * *

 _Date Unknown_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Time Unknown…_

"You lied to me!" She snapped, pushing into the hard chest of the male in front of her. They were on the doorstep of Butch's home. The streetlights from the neighborhood illuminated their faces.

"I understand what I did but it's not that big of a deal," Butch attempted to appease.

" _Not that big of a deal?"_ Buttercup scoffed. "You broke my trust. I've been nothing but honest with you this entire time. Every ugly truth and flaw, I gave to you because I trusted you." She paused, hanging her head low. "Because I love you."

"And I love you... Look, Buttercup," he said quietly, placing his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to get her attention but she brushed him off. His arms returned to his sides in defeat. "What is it that you want from this conversation? I fucked up. It's not the first time. And you haven't exactly been a saint in our relationship either. So why don't we move past this like usual?"

Buttercup lifted her head back up. Her light green eyes meeting his.

"No," she replied softly. "I can't."

"Buttercup," he said desperately. "Please don't tell me that your—"

"It's over, Butch. I made up my mind."

"But–"

"Please don't make this harder than it already is," she whispered. Butch closed his mouth. Pain reflected off his face, mirroring the same expression Buttercup figured she must have at the moment. He gave her a single nod, lingering at his doorstep for a few more seconds, unable to find anything else to vocalize before deciding to go back into his house to give Buttercup some space.

Buttercup watched, swallowing the lump in her throat, turning her back to his home as she began walking to her's.

She was aware this was the best decision for them as she could not find herself to trust Butch anymore. A relationship without trust was one doomed to fail and Buttercup did not want to continue on knowing the truth of their future together.

Buttercup just wished her heart did not ache as much as it did. She wished she did not have to say goodbye to her best friend and her rock.

To lose her first and, what she hoped, only love.

Did she make the smart decision after all, she began to question. Was it worth the heartbreak?

* * *

 _August 27th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom began to blink rapidly, rubbing her temples aggressively. Buttercup figured she must be experiencing one of those 'headaches' the redhead kept complaining about.

"You're dating Butch?" She murmured in confusion. "And you love him?"

Buttercup paused to herself before hunching closer to Blossom, "What the fuck did you just say?" Buttercup whispered aggressively.

"I can see into the future. You were with him..."

"Oh well… then I guess Butch and I start dating in the future," she played off.

Blossom shook her head, "I don't believe you. I think you're with him right now."

"Pssh, yeah right, Blossom. Butch and I are only friends."

"Then prove it," she challenged, an eyebrow raised.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

"Give me your phone."

"What? Hell no."

"So you have something to hide, I guess," Blossom teased with a mischievous grin.

Buttercup glared at her, pulling out her phone and typing in her password. She handed it over to the redhead before folding her arms.

"You're not going to find anything."

Which was true. Buttercup and Butch solely communicated on a romantic level in person, in case of anyone hacking or stealing their phone. Any picture they had of each other was hidden in a _Trojan Horse_ app. They made sure to keep ultimate secrecy since they lived in a small town and they wanted to keep their love life private from any gossip or rumors.

Blossom laughed lightly to herself, making Buttercup furrow her eyebrows at her.

"What's so funny?"

"That you forgot I'm the one who showed you the fake bible app trick," Blossom grinned, displaying to Buttercup hundreds of pictures of Butch and her that the green-eyed girl has saved in the last year. "Let's see… We got a bunch of off-guard pictures of him working, numerous amounts of you kissing him. A few screenshot of his selfies from _Instagram_ and…" Blossom's face immediately reddened, handing Buttercup her phone back. "An image of Butch that I did not need to see."

Buttercup inhaled sharply, shoving her phone back in her pocket. "Alright, fine. Butch and I are together."

Blossom's face quickly lit up with the confirmed information, "I'm happy for you guys."

"Sure, you are."

"I am… Butch is one of the best guys I know and it makes me happy knowing you're with someone who deserves you."

Buttercup chewed into her cheek to prevent herself from smiling widely from Blossom's compliment. "Thanks…"

"Why keep it a secret though?"

"It's Townsville."

"Right."

"I've only truly told Princess about it. Then Boomer and Bubbles found out about us because they don't know how to fucking knock on a door."

"Just as I was getting that image of Butch out of my head, you have to remind me of it," Blossom cringed.

"Get your mind out of gutter, we were only making out," Buttercup remarked with amusement. "But why would you want to get it out of your head? He has a beautiful p—"

"Nope, nope," Blossom said over her, plugging her ears from hearing the rest of her sentence.

Buttercup chuckled to herself, grinning at the redhead as she unplugged her ears. "Come on, Blossom. I'm sure you've seen one."

"I plead the fifth."

"So you have?" Buttercup asked, raising an eyebrow as Blossom's face reddened again.

"I don't want to get into details but… yeah. I have."

"Aye. Look at you, Bellum. Not as innocent as you portray yourself."

"I never did portray myself like that. Everyone simply makes assumptions… including yourself, I guess," she muttered, the light conversation between them disappearing soon afterward. Both could feel themselves slowly getting nostalgic with their banter, longing for it to return.

Buttercup cleared her throat, assuming the same tone she had at the start of the conversation, "Maybe I did."

"I am sorry, Buttercup," she mumbled. "For everything… It would have saved me a lot of trouble if I stayed here instead of leaving."

"...You had to leave," Buttercup mumbled. "It took me awhile—and a load of long conversations with Butch about you—to realize you were the only one getting out of here. And I think I failed to recognize how much I envied you. There's nothing more I want to do than leave Townsville. Get as far as I can from my fucking mom and all the things that remind me of my dad. But it seemed so impossible for me yet so easy for you… I also took out some other emotions on you, considering Butch had told me that he was leaving for the navy a few nights beforehand."

"I had no clue…" Blossom said softly.

"No one but Butch does. He's always helping me with trying to think and sort out my feelings because I can be a bit…"

"Impulsive?"

"Yeah."

"Well… I think you will get out of Townsville."

"I don't know. I barely make any money. I'm trying to get an education because that's the only way it seems how to get anywhere nowadays—Butch and I actually agreed on continuing with our schooling together, since you know, we fucking hated school. It was our plan to get out of here together. Get a degree, pack all of our shit, and drive out to somewhere in California. I just did not realize how fucking exhausting it would all be."

"Life is pretty exhausting," Blossom sighed, her eyes clouding over with memories that were unknown to Buttercup.

"Not for you, Blossom. You have a future."

"No… I don't."

"You're going to fucking MIT. You definitely have a future."

"I… I dropped out," she confessed in a hushed tone, Buttercup's eyes bugged out of her head from disbelief. "That's why I'm back in town… That's why I was at the community college. I was enrolling in night classes."

"Blossom…" She reached out, hesitating to rub the redhead's back to comfort her but decided to go through with it anyways. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Things don't work out how you planned sometimes," Blossom smiled weakly. "But I'm going to try figuring out a new one."

Buttercup tilted her head, examining the redhead.

Her cheekbones were more prominent, sharper than ever. There were no more baby-fat in her face as she appeared five years older than she was. She still was one of the rare types of gingers with not a single freckle on her porcelain skin. Her orange hair seemed to have grown at least over a foot longer, as it was originally at her shoulders the last time Buttercup saw her. Now it was at Blossom's waist. Being the daughter of a salon owner, Buttercup could not help eyeing the numerous split ends Blossom had. Her frail frame was what stood out the most to Buttercup about the redhead's appearance.

Buttercup still believed Blossom was beautiful but there was something different. There was a brokenness to her. A loss of innocence of sorts. It was clear from the dark circles and the pain behind her rose-colored eyes. Whatever happened at MIT, Buttercup could tell it had a deep effect on Blossom on an emotional, mental, and physical level.

It broke her heart.

Blossom used to be a sister to her. Buttercup said she would always have her back no matter what yet she abandoned her at the first sign of a disagreement.

This time, Buttercup was going to be there for Blossom.

This time, she was going to have her sister's back.

"And I'll gladly help," Buttercup smiled softly.

Blossom opened her mouth to respond but instead, wrapped her arms around Buttercup, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Buttercup returned the hug, taking in the familiar scent of Blossom's perfume. Vanilla cupcakes with a hint of cinnamon.

"So we're good?" Blossom asked once they pulled apart.

"Yeah. We're good," she grinned. Her eyes drifted over to Brick sitting alone. "But I don't know about you and Brick now since you've left him alone for this long."

"He'll understand."

"Right…" Buttercup teased, nudging Blossom's shoulder. " _So you and Jojo_?"

"It's a work in progress," she confessed, her cheeks becoming flushed.

"You should speed up the process."

Blossom shook her head, "We're just getting to know each other and I also have some suspicions about him."

"Like sexual suspicions?"

"No," Blossom chuckled before dismissing the conversation. "It's not important… _but you and Butch_? Now that is something I did not expect. I always thought you had a thing for Ace."

"Don't make me barf," the dark-haired girl grimanced.

"I'm sorry, it's just what I thought," Blossom shrugged. "But I like you better with Butch anyways."

Buttercup snorted to herself, "You and I both."

"So what happened?"

"It's a long ass story."

"I'm willing to hear."

"Oh, I know but you're also here with Brick and I don't want you screwing that up."

"I told you, he will understand."

"Trust me, guys are not fond on being ditched."

"Speaking from experience?"

"It's pretty much a known fact," Buttercup shrugged, deciding to change the subject. "But if you want to know about Butch and I, how about I stop by your house tonight? We can order pizza and I'll give you all the details about Butch and then you tell me about what happened at MIT. For oldtime sake? I'll invite Bubs too."

"I would love nothing more," Blossom smiled, grateful to have her best friends back in her life again.

* * *

 _May 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

It was her senior prom and Buttercup was hating it. The theme was terrible—Winter Wonderland? It never snowed in Townsville and it was almost summer. The venue was the school's gymnasium due to budget cuts. But most importantly, her date sucked ass.

His name was Chance Larson. The defensive end on the football team and one of the most desirable guys at North High. Buttercup was pretty surprised when he asked her out since they had ten conversations at max beforehand. According to Bubbles, he has had a massive crush on her since the eighth grade but never said anything because he was intimidated by her. When he finally struck up the nerve to ask her, Buttercup did not give herself enough time to think about it. Before she knew it, she was agreeing to the date.

What she did not expect was the reality of them having zero chemistry, at all. Every conversation they had so far has been extremely forced and painful to be a part of. It was clear to both of them on how their date was not going to go beyond the night.

She was jealous of Blossom and Bubbles. They both decided to invited Boomer again, continuing their three-year streak as prom dates. They got to go to and experience prom with the people they loved the most.

All Buttercup had was disappointment and longing for the one person she wanted to be here with.

She wanted Butch.

This longing was not recent. It has been festering within her ever since everything happened. Slowly but surely, it consumed her.

She wondered if this was what Butch meant when he confessed to her. The inability to stop even when she wanted nothing more than to do so.

It was karma in a sense.

If Buttercup did not decide they should stay friends, then maybe things would be different. She could be here with Butch tonight.

But no. She had to get cold feet.

The one time she put too much thought into something, was the biggest decision of her eighteen years of life.

Buttercup realized a long time ago she made a huge mistake in sleeping with Butch before figuring out her feelings but she also discovered she does not regret it.

She only regretted what happened afterward.

Buttercup glanced around the gymnasium, realizing she no longer wanted to be there. She decided to slip out the exit, going unnoticed by her classmates.

Once in her mom's car, in which she borrowed for the night; Buttercup had no doubt where she was going.

It was ten o'clock at night and the sign in front of the bakery said closed but Buttercup knew ever since Butch started working full-time that he stayed there until midnight before locking up.

She pounded on the glass door to the bakery, waiting until Butch opened up. His eyebrows were raised as he let her in.

Buttercup rushed into the bake shop, pacing back and forward before stopping in front of Butch and poking a finger into his chest.

"Fuck you, Butch."

Butch pursed his lips, not sure where this was coming from. "Is that how we're greeting each other now?"

"No. Fuck no," she dismissed. "But seriously. Fuck you."

"Do you want to que me in on what I did?"

"What you did? What you did?" She repeated like it was an obvious answer. "I'll tell you what you did."

"Please do."

"You fucking made me fall in love with you, Butch," Buttercup huffed. "Ever since that night, I cannot get you out of my fucking head. I get this fucking weird giddiness when I'm around you now. Every time I try to date someone else, you're in the back of mind, ruining everything. For fuck's sake, I'm here instead of my senior prom because I wanted you to be there. I wanted you to be my date… I wanted to go home with you, Butch."

"I wasn't the one who made the decision, Buttercup," he mumbled, glancing away from her.

"Yes, I know and I've been regretting it ever since. Perhaps I waited too long. Maybe you're over me after everything and I don't blame you. I just… I can't shake the feeling that we're supposed to be together. I mean, we lost our virginities to each other. You're the first person I told about my dad. You've always been there for me even at my lowest—You're actually the one who saved me from the downward spiral I was going through my freshmen year. It all makes sense to me in this weird fucking way… _You're my rock, Butch_."

"Buttercup…"

She took a step closer to him. Their eyes stared attentively at each other, their mouths a few inches apart. "Just tell me that you don't feel the same way anymore," she whispered huskily.

"I can't," Butch murmured, against her lips. His hands snaked their way onto her hips. "I'm still in love with you."

"Then what's the problem?"

Butch exhaled deeply, pulling away from her. He ran a hand through his hair, not meeting her eyes as he spoke, "You were right. You waited too long."

"You're fucking someone else?" She retorted, clutching her fists.

"No," Butch replied quickly. Panic flashed through his eyes briefly but Buttercup was unable to catch it. "I'm actually… I enlisted in the Navy, Buttercup. I'm leaving on June 28th."

Buttercup could feel her chest swell up in heaviness at his news, her fists disappearing.

She wanted to tell him that she did not care. That she would wait for him.

Buttercup wanted to pull him close to her again and kiss him. To taste him again as she grew fearful of forgetting what it was like.

She wanted to make him her's.

She simply wanted to love him without any complications.

But instead, Buttercup did the first thing that popped into her head.

She stormed out of bakery without uttering a single word to Butch.

* * *

 _August 28th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Buttercup. Butch. It's been awhile," Bubbles' mom greeted, smiling warmly at the pair as she allowed them into her home.

"It's good to see you too, Ms. Keane," Butch smiled, replying for him and Buttercup.

"Well, everyone is upstairs. If you need anything, just let me know."

"Alright."

The two climbed the stairs of Bubbles' home, passing by the numerous childhood photos of the blonde only child. They entered the first room on the left, thanks to the directions Bubbles texted them.

Buttercup raised an eyebrow at the room, her eyes drifting around each corner, "Um, Bubs… What is this shit?"

Bubbles giggled to herself, sitting in front of a whiteboard. She was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants despite it being nearly a hundred and ten degrees outside. "It's my arts and crafts room."

Buttercup nodded, her eyes fixating on the string dolls on the shelves in the room. Their tiny beady eyes seemed to pierce into her soul.

"So," Butch announced, startling Buttercup out of the trance she was under. "We should get started, shouldn't we? Because I'm hungry as shit and I was hoping we could end this early."

"I could ask my mom to get us snacks."

"Bubbles… everything here is either vegetarian or gluten-free―which as a gluten-loving baker, physically hurts my soul," Butch dismissed. "Plus I'm craving some Chinese food."

"Why didn't you eat before coming here?"

"I did. I had a shit ton of pancakes for breakfast but I'm still starving."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, nudging Butch's arm to signal for him to shut up. He took the que, zipping his lips before wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Bubbles smiled at them, "I still cannot get over how cute you guys are."

"I agree," Blossom nodded, who sat in the only chair in the room that was in front of Bubbles' crafting desk. Buttercup wanted to complain but given Blossom's fragile frame, perhaps it was better the redhead got to sit down.

Boomer cleared his throat, becoming uncomfortable with the question—he was always dejected by Butch's ability to tell Buttercup how he felt as Boomer could not do the same with Bubbles. "We should get to business," he said, pretending to take on a serious tone.

"Alright, alright," Bubbles laughed. She uncapped the blue whiteboard marker in her hand, writing down a few points that they already knew.

 **-Blossom: Chronokinesis**

 **-Boomer: Hydrokinesis**

 **-Bubbles: Cryokinesis**

 **-Buttercup: Electrokinesis**

 **-Butch: ?**

 **-Others: ?**

"Is this really all we know?" Buttercup asked, unsatisfied with the information. She then elbowed Butch in his side as he was texting, telling him to put his phone away. He smiled sheepishly at her, kissing the crown of her head before resting his chin there.

"I'm suspicious of Robin," Blossom confessed. "I spoke to her a few days ago and she seemed to be hiding something."

"Okay," Bubbles replied, adding to their list.

 **-Robin: ? - Acting Suspicious** **/Hiding Something**

"What exactly did you talk to her about?" Boomer asked. "We're suppose to be keeping a low profile."

"I simply asked her about what happened Friday night because I got too drunk to remember," Blossom answered. "Which is false because everyone here knows I did not drink that night."

Bubbles pursed her lips in consideration, "And what did she say?"

"That you and I got wasted."

"Yup. Snyder is definitely hiding shit," Buttercup agreed.

"I don't know," Boomer chimed, scratching his head. "It doesn't seem like something Robin would do."

"How do you know? Robin is a complete mystery because no one pays any attention to her," the dark-haired girl pointed out. "You probably think you know her because you work with her but I bet you barely even speak to her."

Boomer opened his mouth to reply but immediately shut it.

"Actually, Buttercup makes a very good point," Blossom announced, her eyes lighting up with an idea.

"What? That I'm a terrible coworker?"

"No. That you work with Robin. You have the best access to talking to her than any of us here."

"Um… I am friends with her," Bubbles interjected.

"Yeah, but when is the last time you hung out with her, Bubs?" Butch asked, his eyebrow raised as Buttercup chuckled at his question.

"Senior year of high school," Bubbles sighed.

"Then Boomer will be in charge of getting any type of information from Robin," Blossom decided.

"Do I get any say in this?" Boomer questioned.

Blossom shrugged, "Yeah, you do. Is there any problems you see with the plan?"

"I…" the blond paused, groaning loudly to himself. "Ugh. Fine. I'll get closer to Robin."

"Perfect."

"Anything else?" Bubbles asked, rereading the little amount of information they had.

"I would add all the weird side effects we have," Boomer acknowledged. "Do you know how fucking weird it is to be bone-dry after a shower?"

"Good point."

 **Side Effects:**

 **•Bubbles: Low Body Temperature**

 **•Boomer: Hydrophobic Skin**

 **•Blossom: Migraines**

 **•Buttercup: ?**

"That's all I got," Bubbles frowned.

Blossom sat up in her chair, the gears turning in her head. "You know, this might be the key to finding out who else has 'powers'."

"Holy shit," Butch gasped. "You're right."

"But what about me? I haven't had any side effects, yet I can electrocute all my silverware—which is what I did last night and now I have to pay for a new set," the green-eyed girl huffed

"Buttercup, that might be it," Blossom replied eagerly. "You're able to touch Butch right now without electrocuting him but when you touch metals, it's not a pretty outcome. Meaning you're unable to touch anything consisting of metal without conducting some electricity."

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows, "I… I guess."

"That's actually really strange since metal makes no difference with electrical currents," Blossom continued on, gaining confused stares from the four other individuals in the room. She smiled sheepishly at them, "Sorry. My geekiness just came out."

"Don't let it happen again," Buttercup teased with a grin, making Blossom grin back at her. The dark-haired girl could feel Butch squeeze her for a second, his way of saying non-verbally that he was proud of her for fixing her relationship with the redhead.

"Okay. So Buttercup cannot touch metal," Bubbles said out loud as she wrote it on the whiteboard. "Anyone else with strange behavior or anything?"

"Actually…" Boomer pondered. "Robin has been complaining about being dizzy for almost a week now."

"That will add more to the theory of Robin being affected."

 **•Buttercup: Cannot Touch Metal**

 **•Robin: Dizziness**

Bubbles nodded, adding it to her list. "Is that it?"

"I don't think we have spoken to anyone else that was at the lake yet," Boomer replied.

"Buttercup, you haven't spoken to Princess lately?" Bubbles asked with a surprised tone.

"She hasn't returned any of my calls since that night," Buttercup replied, disappointment in her voice.

"Doesn't that seem suspicious?" Blossom pointed out.

Buttercup nodded, "Yeah. It does."

 **-Princess: ? - MIA Ever Since The Lake Night**

"What about Brick?" Buttercup asked, glancing at Blossom. "You've been hanging out with him a lot lately."

"You have Bellum?" Butch asked, amusement in his voice. "Niicccee"

Blossom's face reddened as she crossed her arms, "Please, don't say anything more, Butch…" she inhaled sharply. She opened her mouth, beginning to formulate a sentence, hesisting for a few seconds "...He hasn't shown any signs of odd behavior."

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent," she confirmed quickly, avoiding any eye contact with anyone in the room.

Buttercup pursed her lips, furrowing her eyebrows, "So why would the four of us and presumably Robin be affected but not Butch and Brick?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out," Blossom replied. "It doesn't make sense if only a select few were…" she trailed off, her eyes drifting out to the window in the room. A cherry red truck was easily recognized by her immediately. "Um, Bubs. Why is Brick here?"

"He is?" Bubbles asked, taken back by the question and rushing over to the window to see. "Why is he here? None of us invited him."

"Actually, Butch did," Brick answered for her. The five individuals snapped their necks around to see him leaning against the door frame, holding a brown bag.

"Butch!" Buttercup exasperated, pushing him away since Brick was there and he did not know about them.

"Hey. I told you I was fucking starving," he warned.

Blossom narrowed her eyes at him, forgetting about Brick's presence for a second, "Butch. How has your appetite been lately?"

"I don't know… I've been eating more of the shit I make at the bakery and I haven't been able to get full lately," he revealed. "I don't—" Butch paused, his mouth going agape. "I cannot stop eating. That's my thing," he said rapidly. "I was affected too."

Bubbles quickly went to the whiteboard, adding the new discovery to their list.

 **•Butch: Never-Ending Appetite**

Bubbles' eyes widened, darting to Brick, realizing what Butch may have implied in front of the redhead male.

"Affected by what?" Brick asked with curiosity, his eyes jumping to the whiteboard. Bubbles attempted to block his view but there was still some phrases that were able to be read.

Butch matched her expression, trying to backtrack what he said, "I, I um…"

"I would like to call a group meeting," Boomer announced. "In front of the whiteboard."

The four others nodded, rushing over—except for Butch, who grabbed the brown bag from Brick and then joined the others—to the whiteboard and forming a huddle.

"What do we do?" Bubbles asked with desperation. "This isn't exactly keeping a low profile."

Butch pulled out an egg roll from the brown bag, "I think we should tell him we're just high as fuck. It would explain why I asked for food and the nonsense we're writing," he suggested, biting into his egg roll.

"That would totally work if we weren't with the goody-two-shoes sisters," Buttercup responded, gesturing to Blossom and Bubbles.

"Hey," they said in unison.

"Sorry but it's true," she shrugged. Buttercup then elbowed Butch's side, "And why the fuck would you ask Brick to bring you food when we're talking about shit he shouldn't know?"

"My appetite took control," he confessed, speaking solely to her, smiling sheepishly. Butch held out his egg roll to her as a peace offering. Buttercup rolled her eyes but reluctantly took a bite out of the egg roll.

She always had the inability to stay mad at Butch.

"It's whatever, Butch," Boomer responded. "We need to figure out what to do now."

"We can say we're playing a fantasy game," Blossom considered.

"I said no more geekiness, Blossom."

"Right…"

"We could tell him the truth," Bubbles said softly.

"I don't know. Do we really trust him enough to tell him?" Boomer questioned. "I mean, Brick has been a good friend of mine for a couple of years but this is a big deal."

"Boomer does make a good point," Buttercup agreed.

"I say we can trust him," Butch replied. "He did bring me Chinese food. That's like a legit test that he is dependable."

"Okay, so it is two against two," Boomer acknowledged, his eyes darting to Blossom. "You're the tiebreaker."

Blossom pursed her lips, considering the options, "I—"

"You do know I can hear everything you're saying, right?" Brick pointed out with an amused grin on his face. "And Butch, you owe me twenty bucks."

Butch sighed, pulling out his wallet and giving him the dollar bill, "It was so worth it."

"Thanks," Brick replied. His eyes went back to the whiteboard again, "Now, do you want to tell me what is going on or not?"

The five exchange glanced between each other, waiting for one of them to take the lead on. Blossom inhaled sharply, stepping forward, "Can you give us a minute? I'll fill you in over lunch?"

Brick raised an eyebrow at her but nodded, shrugging his shoulders, "Okay."

They collectively let out sighs of relief when Brick exited the room and headed back to his truck to wait for Blossom.

"I'm so glad you've become _friends_ with him," Butch grinned, pulling out a carton of fried rice from his bag of takeout.

"Butch, I told you not to comment on anything," Blossom maintained, her face reddening. "But as his friend, I am going to tell him the truth."

"Are you sure that is the best option?" Boomer questioned anxiously. "What if he tells anyone?"

"Brick spends most of his time alone at his mechanic shop. And if he is not there, he is going to be with one of us," Blossom explained. "And it might be better to have him on our side. What if he does start to show signs of some 'powers'? We would be the first to know if we tell him now and gain his trust."

"What if he already does have 'powers' and we just don't know?" Buttercup continued.

"I… I don't think that's true," the redhead replied, stumbling a little. "But I do think we should carry out the same plan as Boomer with Robin. Buddy up with those who were at the lake that night to cover all of our bases."

"Okay," Bubbles nodded, turning towards the whiteboard. "Boomer is with Robin—"

"I mean. We're not really ' _with_ ' each other," Boomer clarified awkwardly.

Bubbles giggled to herself, "Of course."

Butch leaned over to the blond's ear, "Smooth."

"Shut up," he whispered as his face turned a light shade of red.

"And then Blossom and Brick."

Butch opened his mouth to say something but Blossom beat him to it, "I don't want to hear anything, Butch."

"Fine," he frowned.

"Can I suggest Buttercup and Princess?"

"Yeah. I'll try calling her tonight," Buttercup nodded.

"I'll take Ace," Butch chimed.

"Then that leaves the punks."

"They work at my mom's salon, so I'll take care of the punks."

 ***Boomer and Robin**

 ***Blossom and Brick**

 ***Buttercup and Princess/The Punks**

 ***Butch and Ace**

"So I get no one?" Bubbles pouted. "I want to be involved."

"You could investigate the factory fire," Blossom suggested. "Since you are the closest to it on a regular basis than all of us."

"Okay," Bubbles said eagerly.

 ***Bubbles and Factory Fire**

"Why would she do that?" Buttercup questioned with dismissal in her voice. "There's literally no point. The fire has nothing to do with us."

"I…" the redhead sighed to herself, slumping her shoulders in defeat. "I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was a one time deal but a few days ago, I had a vision where City Hall caught on fire and for some reason, I knew exactly who had done it in that moment. So I don't think this was an accident or isolated act of arson. I believe someone may have pyrokinesis abilities. "

"That's fucking crazy," Butch exclaimed in between stuffing his face with fried rice.

"Wait. Was that the same one you saw of me and Butch?"

"No… The one of you and Butch was… You were breaking up with him because he lied to you."

Buttercup glared at the male next to her, "Huh."

Butch's eyes widened, putting his hands up, "Please don't hold me accountable for anything my supposive future self does."

"And," Blossom cut in. "In my vision, it felt like I was Buttercup. Like I was in her body. So I could hear all her thoughts and physical reactions... like her physical heartache."

"Aww, babe. You do really love me," Butch teased, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her temple.

"Wow. You're making me sound like a puss, Blossom."

"I can't help what I feel in my visions," she said sheepishly. "But that's not the only reason I want to check out the factory."

"Which is?" Boomer questioned.

"I'm going to sound super crazy but on the day I visited Bubbles at Otto's, I saw something across the street. It was this shadowy figure calling me out to the factory… I almost went too. There was some strange pull over me to go to them."

"Temptation," Boomer whispered, his face becoming pale.

"Yeah… It was. I might have had another but…" She shook her head, denying herself of the memory. The feeling of the strange creature's claw piercing her stomach still had a physical effect on her. "I think that was just a nightmare."

"Wait. Let me get this straight. You think there's this shadow person tempting people?"

Blossom nodded, "I know it sounds ridiculous but then again, we're suppose to be dead, right? But instead, we have powers. It does make some sense if we think about it."

A silence fell between the five. The only sound being heard was Butch's chewing.

Bubbles turned around, writing on the whiteboard again. "Blossom. Do you have any idea when your visions take place?"

Blossom raised both of her eyebrows, "I don't... I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

 **Blossom's visions:**

 **–City Hall Fire**

 **–The Breakup**

Bubbles tapped the bottom of the marker against the whiteboard, pointing at the fresh writing, "Besides figuring out what happened at the lake, we need to prevent City Hall from being burned down."

Boomer nodded, "We should keep an eye on it for the next couple of weeks."

"And Butch and Buttercup, you should be very honest with each other," Blossom replied, her and the blondes' eyes going to them. "If you want to make your relationship last."

"Well, there goes any mystery in our relationship," he joked.

Buttercup elbowed his side again, her eyes narrowing sharply at him. "This is serious, Butch. We need to be open with each other… or what Blossom saw will become a reality, and I can't… I don't—"

Butch pulled her closer to him, "I got it," he murmured against her hair.

"Thank you," she whispered, smiling softly.

"Okay…" Blossom glanced at her phone, realizing how long she has made Brick wait. "I should go tell Brick what is going on."

"You're going to tell him everything or…"

"I'll tell him what he needs to know, Boom," Blossom promised. "Other than that, everything that has been said in this room, stays between us."

The four others nodded, their eyes reading the whiteboard once more, trying to comprehend the mystery they were entwined in.

* * *

 _June 27th,_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

She could not wrap her mind around it. Buttercup could not understand how her world has turned upside down in a matter of less than two months. This has not happened since… well, when her dad died.

Blossom was gone. She left to become a snob at MIT. Buttercup figured the redhead probably thought she was better than everyone now. However, she was mostly angered by the redhead's ability to escape Townsville when Buttercup was stuck.

That probably explained why she exploded on Blossom on the night she announced her decision. Never mind her destroying the pact they made when they were freshmen. No. Blossom was the lucky one and Buttercup simply wished luck would be on her side for once.

Then there was the fact of her and Butch were barely on speaking terms. They only communicated in a group setting to present no discord between them. Deep down, it was eating away at her. Not only did she lose the guy she was in love with but also her best friend.

Nothing tore her up more than knowing tonight would be Butch's last night before heading off to the Navy, and she was not there spending it with him.

Why was she not there with him?

If she did not storm out of the bakery on prom night, things would be different.

Then again, if Buttercup stopped to consider a lot of her decisions regarding Butch, everything would be incredibly different.

She should be with him right now.

She should be telling him how much she loves him.

She should tell him about how she would wait for him.

She needed to tell him to be safe.

"Fuck it," she muttered to herself, jumping out of her bed. Despite being in a tank top, no bra, and flannel sleeping shorts, Buttercup grabbed her mom's car keys, deciding to deal with the consequences in the morning, and headed for the door. She ignored her mom's shouting and her questioning of what her daughter was doing dressed like a prostitute, speeding out of her driveway and towards _Batter Up_.

It was no surprise to her that Butch was not having a send off party of any sorts. She knew how badly he wanted out of Townsville but enlisting into the Navy seemed to be his last resort. A desperate action to escape.

But it was not Townsville, she figured. It was because of her.

Just like Buttercup could not evade anything that reminded her of her father in town, it was the same feeling with Butch. She did not realize how many memories she had with him. Being in Townsville could be unbearable when they were not on good terms.

It was toxic when she was in love with him but could not be with him.

That was exactly why she believed he was enlisting in the Navy because of her.

He must share the same notions as she did about not being around him.

Buttercup sloppily parked the car outside the bakery, happy to see the lights still on and to see the sight of Butch's dark hair in the distance.

She knocked furiously on the door, finding the moment to be eerily similar to prom night, waiting impatiently for him to open the door.

Butch walked up to the door, stopping right in front of it. He did not open the door, staring dejectedly at her, "Go home, Buttercup," he said through the glass.

"No. Now open the door."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's over," Butch answered, shaking his head. "I'm leaving first thing in the morning and you can't convince me otherwise. So save yourself the bother and go home."

"Butch…"

He sighed to himself, his fingers going to door's lock but he did not move it, "I'm sorry."

"No," she challenged, narrowing her eyes at Butch. "No. This is not how it's going to end between us. I fucking love you and it's not going to change. Even if you're in, god knows where, doing crazy navy seal shit, I will still love you and I'll wait for the day for when you come back and we can finally be together. That's how much I am confident in us being meant for each other. Okay?"

Butch stared blankly at her, comprehending her declaration of her love for him. "...You'll wait for me?"

"Yes, Butch," she exasperated with a weak smile. "Whether if it's months from now, four years, a decade… I'll wait for you because you're worth the wait. You'll always be worth the wait for me."

They stood silently, staring at each other through the glass door. Buttercup shifted her weight, feeling too exposed by confessing all of her emotions. She hugged herself in comfort, downcasting her eyes to the pair of plastic flip flops from _Walmart_ on her feet.

Then there was a faint clicking noise and the door of the bakery opened in front of her. Before she knew it, Butch was pulling her into him, closing the bakery door behind her. He brought her into a passionate, frenzied kiss. He lifted her up as Buttercup wrapped her legs around him with Butch slamming her into the glass door. They continued kissing each other so roughly, it almost hurt. She pressed him against her tightly as they broke apart to take a breath, their breathing coarse and heavy. Buttercup could feel her heart pounding against her chest.

"You're so cheesy," Butch whispered in a throaty voice, pressing his forehead against hers.

"In this moment, I don't care," she mumbled against his lips, running her hands through his hair. "Why don't we get out of here so I can give you a proper send-off?"

"You don't have to tell me twice."

* * *

 _August 27th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Buttercup pressed her phone against her ear as she slipped off the worn-out pair of _Nikes_ on her feet. She settled on her bed, waiting for the other person to answer. By the time she was told to leave a voicemail, Buttercup sighed to herself.

Princess was still not answering her phone calls and she was growing concerned by this. The redhead practically lived on her phone. This type of behavior was extremely out of character.

Buttercup leaned back, laying flat on her stiff mattress, staring up at the ceiling. She thought about how she would not be able to do this in two months since she would have to move out soon. The thought hurt her head as Buttercup was also conflicted from all the information discussed at Bubbles' house.

Blossom's theory of a shadow tempting people sounded science fictional. Did she believe Blossom? No.

Buttercup was simply going to go along with the idea until evidence proved otherwise. The group was finally back together again and she did not want to ruffle any feathers.

Then there was the future 'break up' between Butch and her. A notion she did not want to even think about as any prolonged thoughts about the topic would make her paranoid about the situation.

This was why her head hurt. Everything was so damn confusing to her and thinking too long was never a favorite of hers.

As she pinched the bridge of her nose, the sound of her phone ringing filled her room. Buttercup immediately sat up, answering the phone without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

" _Buttercup, Hey…_ "

"Princess, where have you been?" She asked, not even caring about how dramatic she sounded. "I've been trying to get in touch with you for a week now."

" _I know, I know… Daddy has me put in charge of the Labor Day celebration here and I have been stressing_."

"Oh… Why didn't you tell me? I could get a bunch of people to come and help. In fact, Bubs loves party planning."

" _So do I, it's just… You promise not to tell anyone this?_ "

"I promise," Buttercup replied, waiting on the edge of her bed as to what Princess has to say. Her mind went to the suspicion that everyone was affected and Princess was going to confirm a bit of it to her.

" _I mean it, Buttercup. If you don't, I'll have Daddy get his worst to ruin you and your mom._ "

Buttercup chuckled to herself, knowing Princess would not go through with it. "Right."

She heard Princess sigh into her phone before speaking in a low whisper, " _You remember the night at the lake…_ "

* * *

 _August 27th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

In the shadows of the pine forest by Lake Comen Loquentes, an individual could be found speaking with a dark figure. Frustration displayed on their face, highlighted by the moonlight.

"They're faster this time."

"Yes… It is a little troubling," the figure contemplated, stroking their transparent hand against their chin before shrugging. "It wouldn't change their outcome though."

"How can you be so sure? For some reason, they're smarter… they're not naive about anything," the individual argued.

"It doesn't matter. They still have their individual _Achilles'_ heel. They'll fail no matter what happens."

"But is it going to stop them?"

The figure grinned, "As long as the one who can freeze time does not do anything dramatic, then we'll never have anything to worry about. We will achieve our goal this time."

"...Your goal…"

An ominous laughter filled the air. It was the type of laugh that would send shivers down someone's spine from how evil it sounded. "Once you realize this is a partnership, the easier everything will be for you."

The individual looked away, staring out at moon's reflection onto the lake water. Letting the words of the figure become encased in their mind as a dark cloud sprouted next to them, their company disappearing from their sight.

"This will never be a partnership…"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Thank you for reading and don't forget to review!**


	4. The Frost

_February 21th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _6 months ago…_

They were arguing again. Their voices echoed throughout the frail walls of their home. Words combined of years of loathing and unhappiness were being expressed over and over again.

It was impossible to ignore.

Yet, ignorance towards the situation was all Bubbles wanted to do. She covered herself under the covers of her bed, behaving as a six-year-old instead of the nineteen-year-old she was.

She was almost twenty, but nonetheless, she could not deal with her parents' constant fighting. Tears flowed slowly down her cheeks as she tried to tune them out.

Her mind drifted to times when their house was not so tense. When every conversation between her parents did not result into an argument.

Bubbles could not find any, however. The prominent memories of them in recent times, clouded over any of her childhood remembrance. Their hostility disrupted any sense of happiness in their home.

Her mom was a kindergarten teacher and Bubbles could see all of the strain within her from the arguing taking a toll on her. She continued on pretending everything was alright and forced a smile for her students or when Bubbles had her friends over but underneath it all, her mom was falling apart.

Bloodshot eyes and a tear-stained face becoming a common image in Bubbles' mind whenever she thought about her mom.

She did not understand why they kept fighting. Why did they keep trying to pretend everything was fine?

But then Bubbles remembered, she was her mother's daughter and then she understood why.

It was their duty to be the light one. The happy one. The one who always had a smile on their face and never had anything to complain about. Therefore, anything unsettling happening between them had to be swept under the rug because they had a role to play.

They could not make waves in an already disruptive sea.

So her parents continued to fight and be miserable. Bubbles continued to hide in her bed until they would eventually quit in an hour or two. She would not speak of her family problems, giving the impression of complete peace because that was who she was suppose to be.

As her belief in true love has fled, Bubbles put on her mask everyday because it was easier for everyone—including her.

* * *

 _August 30th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Alright," Bubbles smiled smoothly with a tray in hand containing two milkshakes. She reached over the table, placing the drinks on the solid surface in front of her as her two friends smiled up at her. "One triple chocolate shake for Buttercup and a strawberry shake with sprinkles for Blossom."

"I can't believe you still get sprinkles on your shake, Blossom," Buttercup scoffed before taking a long sip of her drink.

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, "It's for the aesthetic."

The dark-haired girl rolled her eyes, swallowing her drink's chocolaty content, "Whatever."

Bubbles placed the tray under her arm, hunching closer to the table as she whispered, "I have five minutes before Boogie notices I'm gone. So you want to fill me in on what is happening with everything?"

"Right," Buttercup grinned. "I spoke to Princess—"

"And?"

"I was getting there, Blossom."

"Sorry," the redhead smiled sheepishly.

"Anyways, Morbucks Manor is throwing their annual Labor Day party. We're all invited." Buttercup paused, her eyes narrowing at Blossom. "Actually. I'm not one hundred percent sure if you are."

"Princess still hates me?" Blossom asked discouragingly. "Why? She's on good terms with all of you. Why not me?"

"Unfortunately, you weren't here when we all sang _Kumbaya_ ," Buttercup chuckled. "She might be salty about you being back too…"

Blossom arched an eyebrow, "Because she might think she was my replacement?"

"Umm…"

"Again. I only have three minutes now," Bubbles whispered to them.

"We'll table this for later," Blossom huffed.

"Fine by me," the dark-haired girl remarked. "As I was saying, they're having a party on Monday. Typically Morbucks fashion. We'll be helping them with set up beforehand."

"Did Princess tell you anything about what happened at the lake?" The redhead questioned.

"She did," Buttercup nodded.

"Great—"

"But I promised to keep it a secret. So I wouldn't reveal anything," she finished.

"So that means she was affected?"

"I'll leave it up to your assumption."

Blossom exhaled loudly to herself, "Fine."

"I don't get it," Bubbles murmured. "Why is the party such a big deal?"

"Because it is a Morbucks party, Bubs. That means everyone in town with be there. So therefore—"

"Everyone from the lake with be there," Bubbles concluded, gasping to herself. "It's the perfect event to see any differences with the others without seeming suspicious."

"Exactly," Buttercup grinned.

Blossom cleared her throat, leaning back into the booth they sat in, "Not everyone will be there…"

"Come on, Blossom. I'm pretty sure you're allowed to come—"

"No. It's not me," the redhead interjected. "It's Brick."

"And why not? It's Labor Day, so he can't use work as an excuse."

Blossom shrugged, "I don't know. He said he'll be out of town for the weekend and I told him okay."

Buttercup huffed to herself, "Way to keep track of your man, Blossom."

"He's not my man," Blossom said rapidly, her face becoming flustered.

"Yeah. I know. You're still feeling him out," Buttercup grinned. "But he is your responsibility according to the buddy system we created."

Blossom hung her head, keeping her focus on the melting milkshake in front of her. "Right…"

"But I'm sure you want him to be more responsible for other things," the dark-haired girl teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Buttercup, stop."

"What? I have a whole year to make up on teasing you."

"Can't we just be adults?"

"Not until I'm paying a _401K_ and a mortgage."

"Seriously?"

"You heard me."

"Bubbles, can you help me out here?" Blossom questioned, glancing at the blonde who stood like a statue by the edge of their table. Her eyes fixated out of the window. "Bubbles?"

Bubbles blinked rapidly to herself, shaking her head slightly before smiling weakly at her friends. "Yes?"

"You okay?" Buttercup asked, an eyebrow raised. "I thought Blossom was the only one who was allowed to zone out nowadays."

"Oh. Yeah… sorry. I thought I…" she trailed off, her eyes lingering out the window, focusing on the black car stopped in traffic outside. She scanned for the car brand, looking for any signs of it being _the_ car.

It was some type of _Toyota_.

Not the car.

Blossom's eyes widened, pulling Bubbles closer, "Did you see the shadow?"

Bubbles shook her head quickly, "No. I just blanked out. That's all."

"You sure? You don't seem okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Bubbles smiled forcibly. "Like I'm always am."

* * *

 _June 19th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _2 months ago…_

Bubbles smiled carelessly to herself, singing at the top of her lungs to a song on the radio. Her car windows rolled down, allowing the wind to flow through her platinum curls.

She was in high spirits since her boss, Malcolm Boogieman, permitted her to go home early on this afternoon. The blonde was extremely grateful. Her mind was formulating with conceptual plans for the night on the drive home. She hoped to cheer up Buttercup with a girl's night since the dark-haired girl has been in a sour mood for the past month.

Bubbles figured it had to do with the anniversary of Blossom's departure. How quickly the redhead left simply a few days after their graduation. None of them said goodbye to each other, and while, Bubbles does not want to crush her elated spirits, every time Blossom crept in her mind, she felt a tremendous amount of guilt for how things were left off with the redhead. Furthermore, she regretted not initiating any form of contact with Blossom since she left. It seemed as to much time has passed for Bubbles to make any attempts at doing so now, making her feel even more awful for letting their friendship expire in such a manner.

She did not let anyone know of those feelings though. Bubbles had to remain strong for everyone else, since—besides Buttercup—Butch has been acting strange for over a year now and Boomer was always odd with his emotions. Even if it was emotional draining, Bubbles had to be the source of sunshine for them because that was her role in the group.

A role she took a great amount of pride in.

Pulling up to her house in the secluded end of her neighborhood, Bubbles squinted her eyes at her driveway. There was another car there besides her dad's. It was not her mom's either.

It was a sleek black car.

More specifically, it was a _Mercedes_.

Bubbles decided to park her car in front of the house, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Perhaps her dad had a business partner over. He worked for a tech business in Phoenix, which helped bring free WiFi over to Townsville. He was technically a local hero in town.

She hesitantly placed her keys in the door slot, pausing as she heard mumbled voices through the door. The blonde laid her ear against the wooden frame, trying to make out the noise.

Bubbles could hear her dad speaking, a lot of panting in between. Her stomach churned as her face paled. There was a female voice too. Then an array of loud, distinctive noises.

Whoever they were, they were making out with her dad. Possibly even more...

Bubbles felt tears stream down her face as she ran back to her car, slamming the door shut and speeding away from her home.

Away from the reality of her unhappy life.

Away from the man who was the town's hero but really should be her's.

He would never be her hero now.

* * *

 _August 30th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Shivering a great amount, Bubbles wrapped her arms around herself as she walked across the street. She had just clocked out from work and there was no signs of activity within in a mile—it was not a strange sight since Townsville basically shuts down after sundown habitually. The only reason she was still at Otto's, was because Bubbles volunteered to mop the floors after work. This was a scheme to be able to walk over to the burnt factory without any questions but it also made Boogie decide to give her a bonus in this week's check. It was a win-win situation for the blonde.

Once she crossed the street, Bubbles climbed up the chain-linked fence surrounding the factory that was strangely not even touched by the fire. Bubbles jumped down to the other side, her feet landing hard on the ground. She would complain but the side effect of her body temperature dropping, also made it harder for her to feel pain. All Bubbles felt was a slightly numb tingling in her feet. If another person did what she did, they could have twisted their ankle.

Her blue eyes analyzed the ruins of the fire, pulling out her phone to take photo evidence. She traced her fingers against the remaining ash-covered brick walls, watching as a small trail of crystallized ice followed. Bubbles quickly removed her hand, not wanting to tamper with anything.

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to figure out if anything stood out to her but found nothing. Bubbles thought back to Blossom's reasoning on why she should investigate the factory, claiming someone had started the fire themselves.

If the person had pyrokinesis, then they must have started the fire by their touch, just like she can with her cryokinesis. Only problem was, Bubbles had no clue where the person could have started the fire. If she could pinpoint the exact location, there was a chance a hand-print could still be there or something more.

Bubbles turned on the flashlight on her phone, scanning the walls. Her eyes darted in each direction as Blossom warned her about the shadow figure might be there. The blonde could feel the tension in her body, her breathing hiking up in intensity. Her hand shaking as she flashed her light around.

Due to all of her nervousness, Bubbles did not even realize she made it to the center of the factory. The ceiling completely collapsed in this area, creating a skylight. The million of stars shined down on her from above.

As she stared at the sight, the blonde could feel her body become a little at ease, calming herself down enough to focus on her objective at hand.

Bubbles flashed the light around the newly opened space, searching for any clues. Her eyes narrowed at the blackened wall in front of her. A single streak remaining untouched from any of the fire's effects. The blonde immediately took a picture of this, processing what it could have meant.

This could have been the initial starting point of the fire.

Bubbles smiled softly, excited about making some progress and having something to speak about the next time the group compared notes. She shivered to herself again, deciding this was enough for one night despite the question of why would a person want to light the factory on fire, crossed her mind at the moment.

She turned on her heel, heading in the same direction she came in from but stopped dead in her tracks. Her mouth agape at the sight in front of her.

On the wall in front of her, strangely untouched from any destruction, was a large mural of a green serpent. It was spray-painted, she determined as she snapped a picture of the artwork.

The green serpent hissing venomously, coiled up to appear as the letter "G". A clear symbol of the Gangreen Gang.

Bubbles had only seen this one other time. Under the bleachers at South High when visiting for a football game.

South High was were most gang activity took place in town, although a few of her classmates did participate but chose to be secretive about the topic. The bleachers at South High were rumored to be one of the main hangouts of the Gangreen Gang. How was one suppose to conclude this? The green serpent acted as a stamp to separate them from the rest of the population. A way to solidify the "us vs them" mentality most of the members of the gang had.

Given the other rumors she has heard about the Gangreen Gang and the factory, this mural confirmed it. The factory was the headquarters for all Gangreen Gang activity. With the fire taking that way from them, they no longer had a place to hide from the people of Townsville.

To hide their illegal activity.

Whoever did this, they wanted to disrupt the Gangreen Gang's hidden activities. They wanted to handicap them. Push them out of their safety net and leave them exposed.

It was a calculated attack.

This was not an accident, Bubbles concluded to herself.

This was an act of war.

* * *

 _June 19th_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _2 months ago…_

She ran away. She always did.

With the first sign of conflict, Bubbles always ran away. It was the reason why she cowered away in her bed when her parents argued. It was the same logic as to why she left with Buttercup the night Blossom revealed her plans to leave for MIT. It was why she drove to Citiesville to escape what she had discovered earlier in the day.

She ended up at an organic restaurant called the Vegetable Table. Before going in, Bubbles checked herself in the mirror of her car, wiping away any leftover tears. She dug out a bottle of foundation in her purse, applying it on her smooth skin to add color to pale-stricken face. The blonde then reapplied mascara to her eyelashes and smoothed her eyebrows. After bunching her hair up into a messy bun, Bubbles exited her car and entered the establishment.

There was only two other customers in the small restaurant. A couple who were eating salads in the corner.

The walls were painted a shade of beige with green stripes appearing like vines traveled all around the four corners of the space. A small TV was mounted on one of the walls, displaying a live broadcast of _CNN News_ partnered with subtitles. A female reporter spoke intensely about a string of discord about a photo scandal in some country in Europe—Bubbles had trouble keeping track due to her lacking knowledge in geography and any culture outside of the western sea board of the United States.

A host stand was located near the door but no one stood there to greet her. Bubbles pursed her lips, glancing around the restaurant for anyone who worked there when the door to the kitchen opened and a blond male carrying a tray of drinks walked into the space. His dark brown eyes meeting hers, smiling softly at her.

"I'll be right with you," he said quickly, rushing over to the couple. Bubbles watched as he placed their drinks on their table, asking if they needed anything else before leaving them and heading over to the host stand. "Welcome to the Vegetable Table." He smiled at her, raising an eyebrow, "Will it only be one?"

"Yes," Bubbles answered, her voice a bit hoarse from crying the entire ride over to Citiesville. She cleared her throat before speaking again, "It will only be me."

He chuckled to himself, grabbing a menu and leading her to a table, "I always commend people for being comfortable enough to eat alone in a restaurant. I always try to but then I chicken out in the last second."

"Scared of being alone?" She asked quietly, smiling weakly at him as she took a seat in one of the wooden chairs at her table.

"Petrified," he grinned. "I'm an only child and when I was five, I made up an imaginary friend to feel like I wasn't truly alone."

Bubbles raised her eyebrows, amusement striking her face, "What was their name?"

"Patches the Wizard."

"A wizard?"

He nodded, shrugging, "I had thing for _Harry Potter_ at the time."

Bubbles chuckled to herself, "I think we all did."

His eyebrows furrowed quickly, "Not my coworker, Ted. He hasn't read a book or even seen a single movie."

"Scandalous," she pretended gasp. "He should be punished."

"I know, right?" He paused, smiling down at her. His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds before he placed her menu on the table, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as his cheeks reddened a little. "Speaking of Ted, I should get back to work." He cleared his throat, "I'll be back in a few minutes for your order."

"Okay," Bubbles smiled.

"Okay," he repeated, grinning back at her before leaving. Bubbles flipped open her menu, scanning through the various options when he came back to the table.

"Back already?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the time displayed on the TV, "It's only been exactly a minute."

"Yeah, I forget to tell you my name," he said sheepishly. "I'm Mike, by the way."

Bubbles smiled at him, "Good to know."

"Alright."

"Okay."

"Right…" Mike pointed to the kitchen door, his eyes never being removed from Bubbles, "I should get back to work."

"You said that already."

He gulped slightly to himself, "Of course, I did. I'll just—I'm going to go now."

"Okay," Bubbles giggled to herself as Mike walked away. He tossed a look over his shoulder at her before entering the kitchen, locking his eyes with her for the brief moment as the door closed behind him.

The blonde grinned at the menu lying in front of her, a radiating warmth filling her body from their interaction. It was nice to speak to someone who did not know her. Someone who did not expect her to act a certain way.

It let her almost forget why she even came to Citiesville.

 _Almost_.

Bubbles exhaled quietly, unhappy with her need to remind herself of her troubles.

From replaying the sounds she heard through the door. The sinking feeling in her stomach returned at the thought. Suddenly, Bubbles no longer had an appetite. Instead, she rushed into the women's bathroom of the restaurant, locking the door to one of the stalls. She sat on one of the toilets as she covered her mouth to silence her sobbing.

* * *

 _August 31st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

The largest building that was not residential in Townsville was by far City Hall. Bubbles never understood why it was necessary to have the building take up so much space in the town since Townsville's population was about four hundred people but Ms. Bellum had convinced the Mayor and City Counselors' it needed to be expanded. Now City Hall was almost an entire block wide, filled with unnecessary and unused rooms. The city officials have been trying to find some plans to figure out what to do with the rooms, regretting the decision on spending money for the expansion despite them still agreeing with whatever Ms. Bellum had to say.

Bubbles has also never understood why Ms. Bellum was not the Mayor of Townsville yet. She already practically ran the town due to being the only one who fully understood politics. During Bubbles' high school years, Ms. Bellum ran the Parent-Teacher Association. She has led all task forces in the town for any issues. For instance, Ms. Bellum was the one who prevented the, now burnned down, candy factory from being torn down because of the history it presented to the town. She was the reason why the building become a town landmark—which puzzled Bubbles as to how the Gangreen Gang got control of the space if the city government had a sense of regulation towards the building.

Nonetheless, it was strange how someone like Ms. Bellum had such a great amount of power in town but did not actually have any justification to have any power at all.

These were the few thoughts in which crossed her mind as she walked down a hallway in City Hall as Boomer was a few steps ahead of her.

He would glance back at her after every three minutes, debating to himself about something before looking ahead and repeated the same action again and again.

Bubbles did not bother asking because this type of behavior was normal for Boomer. He was always fidgety and a little awkward but that was Boomer.

Instead, Bubbles focused on their inspections of City Hall, looking for anything unusual or anybody suspicious given Blossom's vision and the unknown time of when the next fire would occur. It was another group decision they made, having one of them canvas City Hall for a week and then switch off to someone else. This week was Boomer's turn but he had asked Bubbles to join him today. She almost said no since it was her only day off but Bubbles soon discovered her dad was working from home for the day and she immediately agreed with this new knowledge.

Now she was roaming the hallways, probably appearing suspicious herself with an ever-anxious Boomer and side-glances for those dressed professionally passing by her.

Boomer paused in his steps, waiting for Bubbles to catch up to him. She stopped when standing by his side, arching her eyebrow, "Did you see something?"

"What?" Boomer flustered before comprehending what Bubbles asked, clearing his throat, "No, not yet… I just wanted to say thank you for coming with me. That's all."

"No problem," Bubbles grinned, nudging his side. "But it's not that big of a deal, Boom."

"Right," he coughed, beginning to move again. This time, Bubbles walked at the same pace as him. "It's still nice that you came, you know? Because I didn't want to be here alone and I love being around you—er, as in hanging out, cause, you're awesome, Bubs. And you always make me smile… _because you're a great friend_ ," he quickly added, his cheeks inflamed as he smiled sheepishly at her. They had reached the end of the hallway, reconnecting with the lobby of City Hall and mutually agreed to themselves silently to head for the exit.

Bubbles smiled widely at him, "And you're a great friend too."

She watched from the corner of her eyes as Boomer's face contoured with frustrated. Bubbles was about to ask him what was wrong when her entire body froze. Her eyes focused on one object in the parking lot of City Hall.

"Look, Bubbles. I think I should tell you something. I…" Boomer trailed off, noticing Bubbles was not beside him anymore. Instead, the blonde stood at the doorway of City Hall, seeming paralyzed. Boomer furrowed his eyebrows at her, taking a step towards her, "Are you okay?"

Bubbles ignored his question, her finger pointing across the parking lot. Her finger gestured towards a black car.

The black _Mercedes_.

"Do you know who owns that car?"

"What?" Boomer snapped his neck around, tilting his head. His eyes squinted at the car, "I think that's Ms. Bellum's car. I mean, there's only a few people here who can even afford a _Mercedes_ and it's too practically for anyone with Morbucks type of money."

"Ms. Bellum?" She whispered to herself, her breathing becoming shallow.

The sickening ache within her returned as she began to shiver uncontrollably. Her already frigid body temperature becoming more violently numb. It felt like what Bubbles presumed what it would be like to be frozen alive. Sharp, needle-point pain shot throughout her body as her breathing condensed, becoming visual in the air despite the heatwave transpiring around them for months. She heard a crackling noise coming from her feet, her eyes widened at the sight of ice spreading around where she stood.

Bubbles swiftly stomped on the ice, breaking it into tiny pieces.

"Bubbles!" Boomer exclaimed, rushing to her side. His hands gripped her shoulder, causing Boomer to wince to himself as the sharp, icy pain transmitted from his hand all the way to his shoulder. He had to let go of his hold on her, his face growing with more concern. "What's wrong?"

Bubbles shook her head, her eyes remaining on the monastic of melting ice on the ground. In a few more minutes, it would simply be a puddle. "It's nothing. I'm just really cold," she lied, looking up to meet Boomer's eyes and smiling weakly.

"Come on, Bubs. It's me. You can tell me anything," he pleaded.

"I'm fine, Boom," Bubbles reassured. "I think I just need to warm up a little, and luckily, my mom has a radiator in our attic."

"Bubbles…"

"It's all good."

Boomer sighed, "If you say so."

"Trust me. I'm good," Bubbles pressed, speaking through her teeth. Her eyes focused on the black _Mercedes_ once again.

Ms. Bellum did have too much power in this town. Perhaps she started to believe she was morally above everyone else now. Well, Bubbles was not going to let her dictate anyone's life anymore.

Only problem was, Ms. Bellum was still Blossom's mom.

* * *

 _June 19th_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _2 months ago…_

It had been about an hour or two since she ran into the bathroom. No one had entered or exited the bathroom in the time-frame. Bubbles had been silently, wallowing in her own sadness while sitting on a public toilet. Never had she ever felt such a low in life.

Bubbles sniffled, rubbing her eyes for the nth time, raising to her feet and deciding she needed a change of scenery. The lock of the bathroom stall unlocking echoed loudly around her. Before leaving, Bubbles glanced at herself in the mirror. The mascara she put on earlier created thick black streaks under her eyes. She grabbed a paper towel, wetting it slightly and dabbing the skin under her eyes delicately.

The mascara stayed on her face but simply looked like dark circles. Bubbles adjusted her hair again, becoming satisfied with her appearance. She did not look exactly presentable but it was doable.

Taking a deep breath, Bubbles pushed the door open, exiting the bathroom to an empty restaurant. From the windows, she could see the sun was down now. Bubbles pulled out her phone, seeing it was almost nine o'clock at night.

While Citiesville was more progressive and populated than Townsville, they followed the same unspoken rule of the town being basically shut down by sight of the night sky.

That meant the Vegetable Table was closed. Bubbles rushed over to the door, finding it locked from the inside. She sighed loudly, "Can this day get any worse?"

"You're still here?"

Bubbles snapped her neck around, finding Mike standing by the opened kitchen door. An eyebrow raised at her and a Styrofoam container in his hand.

"I was in the bathroom," she whispered shamefully.

"Huh," Mike grinned, moving a step forward, letting the kitchen door shut behind him. "I figured you just took off."

"Well, I didn't," Bubbles joked uneasily, attempting to put on a strong front. The same front that would have worked around her friends.

Mike furrowed his eyebrows at her, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She gestured back to the door, "I just… I need to get home," Bubbles said dejectingly, knowing it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She watched as Mike appeared deep in thought. He moved closer to her, making Bubbles grow anxious from the belief he was going to open the door. The realization of the reality of her home life washed over her like a powerful and consuming wave.

But instead, he grabbed a remote and some silverware from inside the host stand and took a seat at one of the tables in the room. He turned on the TV, changing it to some type of science program. Bubbles could not understand anything being said but knew it had something to do with marine life since they were talking about an octopus.

"You just going to stand there or you going to join me?" Mike asked, smiling warmly at her. The Styrofoam container in front of him was opened now and full of pasta covered in a pesto sauce.

Bubbles did not reply. Instead, she hesitantly walked over to Mike's table, pulling back the chair across from him and taking a seat. He handed her a fork, separating the pasta in half to share with her. Bubbles opened her mouth to say something but closed it, picking up the fork and deciding to take advantage of Mike's kind gesture. Mike remained quiet, his eyes glued on the TV screen.

Neither said a word, eating silently and watching the television until the program went on a commercial break. Mike twirled a plastic fork in his pasta as he spoke, "Sorry about that. I'm studying to become a marine biologist and I've been waiting for this special for the past two months–" He paused, frowning to himself, "I sound like a major dork, don't I?"

Bubbles shook her head, smiling softly as she chewed. "You're passionate about it. So why would it be dorky?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders, "Just a usual response I get."

"That's not kind."

"Yeah. I don't necessarily keep the right kind of company."

"You shouldn't do that to yourself."

"Petrified of being alone remember?" Mike grinned. "I know it's terrible and whatever but hey, we all make mistakes."

Bubbles chewed down on her bottom lip, "I guess."

"Anyways… You were probably confused about what they were talking about?"

"Was it that obvious?" She smiled sheepishly.

Mike chuckled, "You had this puzzled expression the entire time you were watching it."

"I did?" Bubbles arched her eyebrow. She thought he was only paying attention to the television. Not her.

"Yeah, you did," he grinned. "Care for me to explain?"

"Please do."

"So they were talking about North Pacific Octopus—which may I add, I freaking love and probably is my favorite marine organism." Bubbles giggled to herself as Mike continued, "They're able to change their appearance and texture, so they can adapt themselves into appearing like coral."

"That's so cool," she marveled.

Mike nodded enthusiastically, causing Bubbles to laugh more, "I know!"

"Is that why you want to become a marine biologist?"

He shook his head, "But they are one of the reasons why I have stayed interested."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Marine biology is just so… _fascinating_. The ocean is basically a boundless frontier. There is so much we do not know. So much that could be alive but have yet to be discovered," Mike beamed. "That's why I want to be a marine biologist. The endless possibilities. Plus, I have a wicked imagination, which makes me want to discover a whole bunch of new things in the ocean so I don't have wonder about it all day long."

Bubbles smiled at him, "That's an interesting way of seeing things."

"Is that a good interesting or a bad interesting?"

She met his eyes, "A good one."

Mike nodded to himself, "Alright then. Thank you for listening to me geek out."

"Hey, I asked you about it."

"True. You brought this on yourself."

Bubbles shrugged her shoulder, grinning, "Maybe so."

Mike chuckled to himself, eating the rest of his pasta before speaking to her again. "This may weird but, um… What's your name?"

"Oh." Bubbles' eyes widened, realizing she never did give him her name. "It's Bubbles."

"Bubbles?" He repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"What? You think it's strange?" She questioned. "It's fine if you do. I've been told the same thing for my entire life."

"No, I don't. I actually really like it," Mike grinned. The corners of Bubbles' mouth twitched more upward as her cheeks grew a little pink. "And it's not that bad. I've heard worse names."

"Like what?" She challenged.

"Well, for starters, my last name is Believe."

"Wait… Your name is Mike Believe. _Like make believe_?" Mike nodded as Bubbles could not suppress her laughter anymore, "Why would your parents do that to you?"

"My dad has a thing for puns," Mike shrugged. "And he's also a very cold-hearted man."

"Oh, I'm sorry–"

"I'm just kidding," he laughed. "As you can see, I got his twisted sense of humor too."

Bubbles tilted her head, smiling as she analyzed him. His dirty blonde hair was cut in a standard short hair cut as a small amount of stubble was growing on his jawline, outlining a beard he could have if Mike let his facial hair grow out. The intensity of the dark shade of brown of his eyes almost masked his pupils if it was not for the lighting. He was shorter than most of the guys Bubbles was used to—Butch being six-foot-five and Boomer was six feet—but was not significantly shorter than average. She estimated he was about five-nine in height, which was noticeable since Bubbles was five-foot-three. Furthermore, Mike was a different built than Butch and Boomer; Butch was more muscular and Boomer was a slimmer, lanky body type. Instead, Mike was stocker, less defined, and had a little roundness in his face but still had dignified jawline.

There was also certain softness to his appearance. He was not the distinctive attractiveness that Butch and Boomer were—or even the Brick guy they hung out with sometimes. Mike was more of the subtle handsome. The type of guy a person would not immediately be captivated by their appearance at first. It was more of, one day, someone paid enough attention to him and found a whole new appreciation to his details that have been there the whole time. It was a quiet attractiveness.

For some reason, Bubbles liked this about him. She liked that he was different from what she knew in Townsville. Not just in appearance but personality wise. Other than Blossom, Bubbles did not know anyone around her age in Townsville who had any true aspirations that did not include getting out of Townsville. No one had career goals or passions. They were all simply passing the time—including herself. It was a breath of fresh air to her. A well needed one after the day she had.

Bubbles could feel corners of her mouth slip, turning into a deep frown when the thoughts of the event from before crept up in her mind again. So close yet so far.

"You're sad again," Mike frowned. "I thought I was distracting you."

Bubbles furrowed her eyebrows, "You were trying to distract me?"

He nodded, "You seemed distraught and I can tell you didn't want to talk about it, so I thought it was better if I got you in a better mood before you drove home. I didn't want you to cry while driving home at night."

"I wasn't going to cry," she defended, despite it being a lie.

"It's okay, Bubbles," Mike soothed. "It's okay to cry."

"Not for me," the blonde whispered, grimacing as she said this. Why did she have to be such a big mouth at this very moment?

Mike cocked an eyebrow, "Now why would you do that to yourself?"

"For the same reason you keep bad company."

"You're scared of crying?"

"No…" She sighed, speaking with her breath. "I'm scared of not being the strong one."

"I don't…" Mike paused, realization flashing through his eyes. "You have to been the good spirit within your group, don't you?"

Bubbles nodded, downcasting her eyes, "I just want to make sure everyone else is happy because they have always been the cause of my happiness."

"And sadness," Mike pointed out.

"No–"

"You wouldn't be suffocating yourself from expressing anything but happiness if you weren't sad."

"I…" she slumped her shoulders in defeat, "I guess… but they're not the reason for my problems, honestly."

Mike nodded as Bubbles anticipated for him to probe her with another question. He lifted his hands up, intending no harm, "I'm not going to press."

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Of course."

Bubbles glanced over to the TV again, noticing the program came back on. Jellyfish were now the organism of interest.

She darted her eyes back to Mike, appearing apologetic, "You're missing your special because of me."

"Eh. It's alright," he grinned. "I'm sure someone in one of my classes is recording it and I can watch it with them."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You're more important, Bubbles."

"How? We barely know each other."

"Because it's the kind thing to do," Mike simply responded, shrugging his shoulder. "Plus, it's not everyday I get the full, undivided attention of a beautiful girl."

Bubbles opened her mouth to reply, wanting to challenge his idea of what being the "kind thing to do" was but she could only muster up one response, "You think I'm beautiful?"

Mike laughed to himself, his smile reaching his eyes, making them crinkle slightly. "I thought it was quite obvious that I did."

"I'm a pretty oblivious person," she confessed. "I can never notice if someone is interested in me. It the same reason why I never had a boyfriend."

"Well, I'm glad I made it clear to you then," he grinned. "I definitely don't want to miss an opportunity here."

Bubbles smiled softly at him. She wanted to express that she may be interested likewise but a nagging voice was waiting in the back of her head, remaining her that romance was a waste of time. Everything would end up just like her parents.

Resentment and detachment are the only things that followed.

"I…"

"You're not interested," he concluded, his smile suppressing. "It's fine. I understand."

"No," Bubbles said quickly, not realizing it came out of her mouth. Mike's interest perked up as she stumbled with a response, "It's just… it's my parents," she exhaled, deciding to push forward as her shoulders eased up from tension. "Growing up, I used to think they were the epitome of true love. I hoped one day I'll have something like them. But then… They started arguing. A lot. Almost everyday now and then my idea of true love slowly became destroyed to the point that I don't even think I believe in love anymore. And then today… Today definitely ruined it even more for me. And I'm sorry for dumping this all on you. You're probably aren't going to be interest in me anymore because I sorta have a lot of baggage, and… and–"

"Everyone has baggage," Mike interjected. His voice seemed effortlessly calm. Like a lighthouse calling a boat to shore, Bubbles felt drawn and eased by it. "I have baggage. My parents are divorced and it definitely messed me up too but you can't let their, I guess I should say, _failure_ stop you from living your life. You can't compare yourself to them because you're a different story… You shouldn't close off your heart and become cold because of them. It's not fair to yourself."

Bubbles nodded as she began to cry again. She attempted to blink back the tears but had no luck. Instead, Bubbles smiled softly at Mike, letting the tears fall, "I look like a blubbering mess, don't I?"

"No," Mike smiled. "You look even more beautiful."

"How? I'm a wreck."

"Because you're being raw to your emotions. That's a beautiful thing to me," he said affectionately.

"I'm usually way more cheery and upbeat then this, I swear."

"I believe it."

Bubbles raised an eyebrow at him, giggling to herself, "Mike. I think you're the nicest person I've ever met."

"I can say the same for you, Bubbles."

For the next hour, they stayed in the Vegetable Table. Their conversation ranging from Bubbles' job at Otto's and describing her friend group to Mike speaking about his classes at Citiesville University and more about marine life. Before they knew it, it was almost eleven. They both decided it was getting too late, heading out of the restaurant. Mike unlocked the door as Bubbles stood by, watching as he did this in the moonlight.

Once he was done, Mike turned to her with a grin.

"So this is a goodbye?"

"For now," she teased.

He arched an eyebrow, "Would you like to elaborate?"

"Maybe…" she grinned, pulling out her phone. "Or we could discuss it over text?"

"As a slave to the digital age, texting sounds lovely," Mike joked, taking Bubbles' phone from her hand as she giggled at him. He quickly tapped in his phone number, handing her phone back. "I surely hope to hear from you soon but not too soon, since texting and driving is a big no-no."

Bubbles nodded, smiling widely, "You will. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it," he replied, pointing towards her as he took steps back to his car. "Drive safe."

"You too," Bubbles called out before walking over to her car. As she turned on her car, she rolled down her windows and turned up her radio. Feeling the same joy she felt earlier in the day.

She was still troubled by the discovery concerning her dad but Bubbles was not going to pester about it anymore for the next twenty-four. She needed a detox from those negative emotions because Mike was right. Bubbles was slowly becoming more detached with her feelings because of her parents. She was turning colder with her emotions and Bubbles could not allowed that to happen.

And the first step to solving that problem, happened when she arrived home. Upon parking her car, Bubbles quickly texted Mike, not repressing the smile on her face as she did this.

By doing this, Bubbles was not going to run away anymore.

* * *

 _September 1st  
_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Morbucks Manor was in it's own entire world, never seeming quite a fit for Townsville. While Townsville had the appearance of a stop-and-go town on Route 66, Morbucks Manor was like a mini _Versailles_. Gated off from the rest of "Rich Pines", the mansion was almost the same size of City Hall. Painted white with gold finishing, a twelve car garage, and peacocks freely roaming around the estate, it was clear to anyone from the outside of how extravagant the Morbucks family was about their wealth.

The inside only furthered the idea. Everything was practically made out of gold. The light fixtures. The fireplace. The tiles. It was like a treasure box.

Beside the unusual usage of gold, the estate acquired twenty rooms, ten baths, an indoor pool, a greenhouse, and a casino.

To be exact, Bubbles has attended the Morbucks' annual Labor Day party ever since she could remember yet their home has always been intimidating to her. Even when there was nobody in the mansion as she helped Princess set up for the event.

A few staff members hired for the event were running frantically around the large estate. Butch was assisting with putting up a banner in the foyer. In the kitchen, Boomer was in charge of inflating balloons. Buttercup was helping Princess with some last minute decisions upstairs while Blossom and Bubbles were in charge of setting up the cocktail tables.

The blonde could not say she was particularly happy to be paired with Blossom at the moment. After finding out about Ms. Bellum, Bubbles has not had enough time to figure out her feelings regarding everything swirling in her head. As of lately, she would have talked to Mike about anything troubling her by now but he was not available yesterday due to studying for an exam. Bubbles understood and respected his need to focus on himself and his studies, telling him she would tell him about it tomorrow—which was now today.

Her mind raced with irrational thoughts as she propped open a table and moved on to another one.

Did Blossom know? Was she keeping it a secret from her?

Bubbles shook her head.

No, Blossom would not keep such a thing a secret. The redhead was a good person and would not willingly support an extramarital affair—even if her mom was involved.

Or would she?

Ms. Bellum did hold a lot of inexplicable power in Townsville but there was one place she rightfully had control over, and that was Blossom.

Blossom may not be willingly to keep the secret but if her mom forced her into corporation, Bubbles was almost sure Blossom would do so. Ms. Bellum has always had some influence on Blossom's decision making, such as going to MIT for an example. If her mom was not constantly telling Blossom how much she needed to develop a strong future far away from Townsville, then it was safe to say, Blossom might have stayed a year ago.

Then maybe, the affair between her dad and Ms. Bellum might have never been created. Or was it already established beforehand?

All these thoughts were starting to make Bubbles' head hurt, feeling similar to a wicked brain freeze. She inhaled sharply, realizing how extreme the side effects of her cryokinesis could be. The blonde wished she acquired something less severe or more simple, like Butch's relentless appetite.

"Are you okay, Bubs?"

Bubbles looked up to see Blossom staring at her with concern. She nodded, moving on to the last few tables, "Yeah."

"Sorry for asking, you've just seemed really…" Blossom paused, looking for the right word. "Quiet lately."

"I just have a lot on my mind," the blonde murmured, opening up the final table. She glanced around the enormous mansion, finding it to be claustrophobic all of a sudden. "I'm going to find Princess for the next thing to do."

"Do you…"

Bubbles did not hear the rest of Blossom's question as she already rushed up the stairs and headed down one of the hallways. She was not even sure where Buttercup and Princess could be since the upstairs section of Morbucks Manor were always shut down during the parties, with the exception of the game room. Bubbles decided to take a gamble, steering right.

She observed the amount of expensive artwork hanging from the walls covered in a velvety wallpaper. There were no family portraits. Nothing to represent a family lived here. It was more of a art museum than a home.

To Bubbles, this gave off a hollow feeling, but then again, who was she to judge? Her home was full of happy memories of her parents acting loving, when in reality, they spend most nights arguing in front of the photos like they were their audience.

She continued down the hallway until she heard voices coming from a barely cracked open door. Bubbles could tell from the nasally voice matched with a throaty one, that Princess and Buttercup were behind the door. She reached out for the doorknob, pausing before pushing it open as she listened in on their muffled conversation.

"I can't fucking stand it, Buttercup."

"I know, I know. It's difficult to adjust to—"

"Adjust to? I've been a vegetarian for the past five years and now I can't stop eating meat…" There was a long pause in the conversation before Bubbles heard a loud cry and Princess whining to Buttercup, "I'm going to get fat again, aren't I?"

She heard Buttercup groaned, "You were never fat, Princess."

"Don't you dare lie to me."

"I'm not and I'm sure a few weeks of eating meat wouldn't affect your weight."

"But what if this is permanent?"

"I… I don't know then…"

Bubbles took a step back from the door, processing what she overheard. If Princess has recently started eating meat without wanting to, then it might mean she was dealing with a side effect.

Bubbles grumbled to herself.

Princess got the side effect of meat-eating while she was stuck being a human popsicle. It was totally unfair.

The blonde took a deep breath, foregoing an resentment she had. Instead, she decided she needed some fresh air after learning Princess might have powers too.

Turning on her heel, Bubbles took a step forward, her shoulder crashing into another's as her hand wrapped firmly around their arm to stop them from falling. Her eyes widened with concern.

"Are you okay?"

* * *

Unknown Date.

Townsville, Arizona

Unknown Time...

Her face was covered in salty tears. The water from the corner of her eyes crystallized into ice, making it unbearable to blink. Her light blue eyes stared down at her pale hands as the shadow of the moon reflected onto her. The gravel of the rocks next to her stirred. She glanced over to her left, finding Buttercup's fist tightened in blind rage, fighting off the hot tears from rolling down her face. Bubbles then turned to her right where Boomer was on his knees, sinking them into the shoreline of the lake with a blank stare on his face.

"I can't believe it…" he mumbled under his breath. "I can't believe you did it…"

Bubbles nodded dishearteningly, speaking softly, "Me too."

"This is wrong," Buttercup argued, anger and sorrow swirling in her green eyes. "Boomer and I should have stopped you."

"No," the blonde whispered, her eyes going to the individual in front of her. "There was no way of stopping me. I had to do this."

"I don't think I can forgive you, Bubs," Buttercup muttered.

Bubbles' eyes trailed over the individual's body. Their milky white skin deeply contrasted with the dark ground. Their orange hair spread wildly across the gravel, standing out greatly from the moonlight. The sharp icicle protruded from their stomach, surrounded by a pool of blood. The lifeless stare in their rose-colored eyes meeting hers.

Bubbles chewed down on her lip, shifting her sight to the moon instead. The disgust for herself swallowed her as she felt herself become more detached from the world, "I don't think I can forgive myself either."

* * *

 _September 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Blossom, are you okay?" Bubbles repeated, her eyebrows furrowed as the redhead stared blankly at her. Blossom then began blinking rapidly, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings once again.

"Huh?" Blossom asked before wincing. Her hands went straight to her forehead, rubbing it intensely. She looked up to meet Bubbles' eyes, fear flashing across her face for a brief moment.

"I asked if you were okay. You almost fell and then got all dazed afterward."

"Oh… I had another vision," she muttered, running a hand through her hair, glancing away from Bubbles.

"What was it?" Bubbles asked eagerly. Out of all the strange things happening with them, she found Blossom's visions to be the most interesting.

"I… I think it's best if I talk about it when everyone is together again."

The blonde nodded, masking her disappointment. "Alright, that does seem fair–"

Bubbles stopped speaking, getting distracted by Blossom placing her hand on her shoulder and pulling her into a tight hug. The blonde stiffened for a second, her mind going through all her ill thoughts towards Blossom and her mom from the past twenty-four hours.

But then Blossom changed that.

She corrected Bubbles' judgement by simply whispering in her ear.

"I just want you to know, I love you, Bubs," the redhead said into Bubbles' ear, sending shivers down her spine.

In that moment, Bubbles knew the truth. Blossom would not keep such a secret from her even if Ms. Bellum advised her to. Their friendship and love for each other was too strong.

Bubbles wrapped her arms around Blossom, sharing the hug.

"I love you too, Blossom."

They stayed in the hug for another ten seconds until Blossom pulled away, smiling softly at the blonde. Bubbles returned the expression before it became a frown, knowing now she had to break the news to Blossom.

The redhead raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way," she pleaded.

"I promise not to."

Bubbles took a deep breath, an attempt to calm her nerves, "During the summer, I… I found out my dad was cheating on my mom."

"Bubbles," Blossom gasped, her voice full of pity.

The blonde nodded, continuing on, "I know but that's not it… I came home to find a black _Mercedes_ in our driveway before hearing part of a damaging exchange between my dad and whoever it was." She watched as Blossom's mouth closed, her jaw becoming firm at the mention of the _Mercedes_. "It was not until yesterday I figured out who was the owner of the same, exact _Mercedes_ …"

"...My mom," the redhead finished, sighing afterward. Her eyes downcasted to the floor, "Your dad works in Phoenix, right?"

Bubbles nodded, "And your mom does too."

The redhead nodded too as they both came to terms with the truth about their parents, "I'll talk to her about it, Bubs."

"What? Are you sure?" Bubbles asked rapidly from shock. She did not expect Blossom to say anything.

"Yeah, I am," she said firmly. "It's been a long time coming for us anyways."

Bubbles wanted to ask what she meant. She intended to but Blossom cut her off before doing so.

"I came up here because Boomer is severely behind on balloons and I wanted to see if you can help us," Blossom explained, smiling weakly.

"I would love too," the blonde replied, sharing the same expression, ignoring the fact that she may have changed Blossom's entire home life like her's has.

* * *

In a few short hours later, the Morbucks' Labor Day party was in full swing. Their mansion become crammed with almost the town's entire population.

It was the perfect opportunity for the group to find the others who were at the lake. Deciding divided and conquer was the best strategy for the event, each of the five got a section to monitor. Buttercup had the lawn out front, Boomer was in the casino, Butch in the kitchen, Blossom by the indoor pool, and Bubbles had the foyer.

From the text message group they created, Buttercup had spotted Berserk because of her hair but she got lost in crowd because some guy got in her way.

With that in mind, Bubbles searched the foyer for anyone with electric orange hair. Her blue eyes scanned the room, pleasantly surprised to find a person of interest. It was not Berserk but it was one of the punks.

Bubbles quickly walked over to them to make sure they did not leave, putting on a friendly smile when she approached them.

"Hey Brute," she greeted warmly.

Brute barely tossed her a glance, taking a sip from the champagne flute in hand, "Hello."

"I'm loving your hair tonight," Bubbles grinned, her eyes taking it in. Brute had her hair fluffed out into a small Afro, accessorized with a golden-leave headband, which gave her the appearance of a Greek goddess with the loose, drape dress she wore and the gold eye-shadow contrasting with her dark skin tone.

"Thanks," she replied, her eyes darting across the room.

Bubbles shifted her weight, getting the loud vibe of Brute not wanting to continue their conversation but the blonde pushed forward.

"So how's things at the Salon?"

"Same shit, different day."

"And about things with Berserk and Brat?"

"They still annoy the fuck out of me but I love them to death."

"That's…" Bubbles paused, trying to find something to say to keep the conversation alive but slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Great…"

She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her champagne before downing the rest of it and calling a waiter over for another one, "I guess."

The blonde scanned over the room again, wondering if she could leave the conversation to find another person from the lake but slowly came to terms that Brute was her only option. Putting her game face on, Bubbles decided to rip off the band-aid and ask Brute about the night.

"Let me ask you this, Brute. Did something strange happen to you the night at the lake?"

"Huh?" The dark-haired female asked, her green eyes fixated across the room. Her hand nervously picked at her Afro.

Bubbles darted her eyes over to where Brute was staring, finding Princess making her way through the crowd. The redhead was close to approaching them from what it seemed. She glanced back to Brute, watching as she fiddled with the bracelet she wore.

She arched an eyebrow, smiling widely as the blonde took great notice to the ques of Brute's body language. Bubbles leaned over to her; whispering low enough for Brute to only hear, "Oh my god, you totally have a crush on Princess, don't you?" Bubbles squealed.

Brute narrowed her eyes at the blonde before softening her expression, tossing her champagne flute back again and sighing loudly, "I suppose so."

Bubbles giggled to herself, nudging Brute's arm, "You should go for it. Princess and you would be one hell of a power couple."

"I'm not quite sure if Princess would be willing."

"Why not? You're a beautiful and strong women. Plus, you're the best hairdresser in town."

"It's not that simple," Brute muttered, reached out for another glass of champagne. "When I say I'm not sure if she's willing, I mean, I'm not sure if she's into girls."

"Ohhhh," Bubbles nodded, tilting her head. She shrugged her shoulders, "Then you should ask her."

Brute's eyes widened, "Are you crazy? I can't do that."

"Why not? It's the only way you can know."

"Again, it's not that simple," she replied, shaking her head. Brute paused for a moment, finally looking over to Bubbles. Her eyes glanced the blonde up and down before a faint grin formed on her face, "But thanks for the encouragement… You're as sweet as they say, Keane."

"I don't know about—"

Bubbles could not finish her sentence as Brute gained a good grip on her wrist, pulling the blonde closer. Her mouth hovering over her ear, "With that said, I should warn you about never going back to lake. I don't want anything bad happening to you, and if you know any better, you'll listen to me," Brute whispered, pulling away from Bubbles when done.

The blonde raised both of her eyebrows, staring at Brute with confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I can't—"

"There you are, Brute!"

The two snapped their heads around, finding Berserk smiling devilishly at them. The skintight red dress she wore added more to her wicked appearance.

"I have to go," Brute mumbled to her before forcing a smile and walking over to join Berserk's side, disappearing into the crowd of party-goers.

Bubbles wanted to chase after her to gain more of an understanding of what she meant but the blonde settled with telling the others what happened.

Pulling out her phone, Bubbles rapidly texted the group chat, heading towards their meetup site for the night.

* * *

"Hey, I came as fast as I could," Butch huffed, jogging over to the light pole just outside of Morbucks Manor.

"We've been out here for ten minutes, man," Boomer complained.

Buttercup stared blankly at him, her arms folded, "What took you so long?"

"You have?" He asked sheepishly, placing his hands behind his back. A glimmer of what was in his hands caught Buttercup's eye.

"What is that?" She questioned, reaching out and grabbing the item from him. Her eyebrows furrowed at the content. "Is this a plastic baggy full of the jumbo shrimp from the party?"

Butch sighed, nodding his head slowly, "I was hungry."

Buttercup shoved the bag into his chest, rolling her eyes, "You're lucky I love you, okay?"

"Oh, I'm aware," he grinned, kissing the crown of her head. "It's the same thing I tell myself everyday."

The dark-haired girl opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Blossom clearing her throat. Her green eyes narrowed at the redhead.

"I hate to interrupt this moment between you—"

"You already have, so it doesn't matter," Buttercup interjected, wrapping her arms around Butch's torso, burying the left side of her head against the right side of his chest while he snaked his arm around her shoulders.

Blossom flashed a brief smile before continuing on, "Good to know. Anyways, Bubbles, you take the lead here."

"Me?" She questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah. You're the one with information according to your text. Therefore, you're in charge here."

"Oh…" The blonde pursed her lips, repeating the exact warning Brute gave her. Buttercup and Butch both tightening their jaws when given the news, while Boomer stroked his chin and Blossom stared out in the distance. Bubbles glanced around the group, waiting for someone to speak up but none of them did. She inhaled sharply, taking charge like Blossom told her, "...I think we should head to the lake."

"No."

Bubbles, Buttercup, and Butch all whipped their heads around to Boomer, confused by his answer.

"And why not?" Buttercup questioned with an edge to her voice.

"It's too dangerous," he answered. "And if Brute is warning you, then she must know something."

"Who gives a fuck if it's dangerous?" Butch snorted. "We have powers to defend ourselves."

"You mean, the four of us have powers," Boomer corrected, singling out everyone but Butch in the group. "And if we have to defend ourselves, we don't know how to control or even use our powers. We just know we have them…" His eyes darted over to Blossom for a brief second, "Also, Blossom's powers would not be effective for any combat should it happen. So that means we'll only have three people with the ability to fight and two who have to sit out."

"Come on, Boomer. Why do you have to be so cautious all the time?" Buttercup grumbled. "The only way we can get any answers is if we go to the lake."

"I say we take a vote," Bubbles chimed.

"Fine," Boomer shrugged. "I'm obviously against, and I'm sure Butch and Buttercup are for."

"Yup," they said in unison with smirks on their faces.

Bubbles turned to the redhead next to her, elbowing her side to gain her attention, "What's your vote, Blossom?"

The redhead fidgeted slightly upon Bubbles touch, shivering a little. Her rose-colored eyes surprised to see everyone was staring at her. "Um… what are we voting for?"

Buttercup groaned loudly, "Were you having another vision?"

"Technically...no," she answered. "I was thinking about the one I had earlier tonight."

"Right," Bubbles recalled. "And you wanted to talk about it when everyone was here. Now would be a good time, I guess."

Blossom pursed her lips for a minute before sighing, slumping her shoulders. The four waited impatiently for her to speak. "It was at the lake and… it was all of us but Butch—which I don't know why but… In it, Bubbles… Bubs, you impaled me with an icicle you created."

"I… I did what?" Bubbles exclaimed.

"Bubbles wouldn't do that," Boomer argued. His fists balled up tightly as his face contorted with anger.

"I don't want to believe it either, Boomer," the redhead said softly. "And who knows if any of my visions are truly a form of an actual reality or are simply a trick my mind is playing on me. I'm simply saying, something could happen if we go to the lake…"

"You mean, there's a chance, anytime we go to the lake, I could kill you," Bubbles murmured, devastated by the information.

Blossom nodded, "There could be."

"Then I vote against going to the lake," the blonde said firmly.

"Good choice," Boomer grinned. His eyes shifted to the couple of the group, "Does this change your vote?"

"Nope," Buttercup answered. "Blossom said Butch was not at the lake, so that means as along as we have Butch with us whenever we go to the lake, we're good."

"Yeah, that's my girlfriend," Butch boasted. "Beauty and brains."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, smiling widely as she patted Butch's chest, "Thanks babe."

"Fine," Boomer dismissed, turning to Blossom. "You're the deciding vote again."

Blossom tilted her head, grinnng to the four others, "Butch, your car can fit the five of us, right?"

"It did back in high school," he shrugged.

"Then let's take a trip to the lake."

"Yes!" Butch cheered, pumping his free hand in the air. "Let's fucking go!"

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Bubbles asked Blossom, speaking in a low tone in order for her to be the only one to hear her as they were stuffed in Butch's car. Buttercup was sitting in the passenger seat, her hand placed firmly on Butch's thigh as they engaged in a private conversation between themselves. Blossom sat in between Bubbles and Boomer due to her being smaller than the blonde. The blond male was mushed against the other window, staring unhappily at the passing sights.

"Yeah. We need to see why Brute doesn't want us here."

"But your vision…"

Blossom gazed intensely into Bubbles' light blue eyes, "Like Boomer said, it wasn't something you would do. And from what I can get from what I saw, you did feel remorseful for it. So I guess that helps in a strange sort of way."

Bubbles chuckled, "For someone who just saw themselves being murdered, you're pretty calm."

"I think I'm starting to get use to this supernatural stuff to where it doesn't phase me anymore."

"I wish I could be the same way."

"It will come to you, Bubs."

"I don't know. This is all so crazy," the blonde replied, shaking her head. "The powers and the side effects. All the supposive 'deaths'. And then the factory fire being used to start a gang war, I can't wrap—"

"Wait a second," Blossom interjected quietly, narrowing her eyes. "How do you know it was done to cause a gang war?"

Bubbles' eyes widened, quickly pulling out her phone, "Oh yeah. I was so wrapped up with the whole thing with… you know, our parents." Blossom nodded, her eyes glancing down to the images on Bubbles' phone. Her finger glided against the screen to zoom into the serpent mural. "But I investigated the factory and found out the rumors were true. The factory was used for Gangreen Gang operations and if they don't have a base anymore—"

"They are going to destroy Townsville to find a new one," Blossom concluded, looking up from Bubbles' phone. "Whoever did this, they want to ruin Townsville from the inside."

Bubbles nodded, "That's what I thought too. I also figured out that, there is someone with pyrokinesis who did this." She presented the photos of the initial source of the fire. "This is where the fire began."

The redhead furrowed her eyebrows, pursing her lips. She appeared to want to say something. Bubbles could see her debating within herself. However, Blossom did not reveal anything.

Instead, she glanced to the other's in the car to see if they heard their conversation, satisfied to see they did not.

"Let's keep this between us for now," the redhead whispered. "I want to get more information on the Gangreen Gang first. Like finding out who are members and such."

"And what about the person with pyrokinesis?"

Bubbles watched as Blossom hesitated for a second before speaking, "We'll find them soon enough but right now, your priority should be on the Gangreen Gang."

The blonde grinned, bring her hand to her forehead to salute Blossom, "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

The lake seemed the same.

The moon was still glowing brightly in the night sky. The dark water remained without any movements. From what Butch complained once they got there, the intensity of the heat in air was found to be similar to the very Friday night when things happened—Bubbles could not confirm or deny it since she has lost all sense to any temperature that was above forty degrees.

The familiar nature of the lake was eerie. As Blossom pointed out, there should be a huge crater in the ground if a meteor did hit the lake but the shoreline remained completely intact. It was like nothing ever happened here.

Just like how it felt as if the meteor never hit them.

"Am I the only one freaked out by this place?" Butch questioned, hesitating to walk over to the shoreline. Instead, he remained behind the large boulder on the beach.

Boomer snorted loudly, walking to the water, "What happened to the overzealous Butch from a few minutes ago?"

"He grew to his senses and now he wants to go home."

The blond chuckled to himself, glancing over to the girls. They were examining the area where Blossom pinpointed the meteor should have hit. The redhead squatted to the ground and digging her hands into the gravel while Bubbles chewed down on her lip and Buttercup stared in judgement. Boomer shook his head, a smile on his face.

He dipped his finger in the water, wincing to himself and pulling his finger back, furrowing eyebrows at the temperature of the water. Even when dealing with a heatwave, the water remained at a neutral seventy degrees. It was rare for it to go any higher despite the physics behind it. But tonight, the water was boiling hot.

He moved his eyes back up, checking to see if the water was physically boiling but saw no bubbles or evaporation. The water level stayed constant.

Puzzled by this, Boomer glanced back down at the water. His eyes lingered on the black-tint of the water from the twilight sky. It was otherworldly how dark it seemed. Like a chasm of darkness that was ineluctable. Boomer could feel himself being drawn more to the water, his body leaning more closer, inches away from allowing himself to be swallowed into it.

"Boomer!"

He blinked his eyes furiously, attempting to snap his head around to see what Bubbles was screamed about but felt a strong hold around his neck, gagging to himself as he was almost began to choke. That was when he looked down and found a shadowy hand wrapped firmly around his neck. The figure's face grinning devilishly at him as they tightened their grip.

"What..." he coughed, unable to breathe anymore.

"Stay away from him!" He heard Buttercup shout before he heard a crackling noise and a strike of electricity cut through the shadow's arm, vaporizing it while releasing Boomer.

Boomer fell back, his hand going to his neck, feeling the lingering effects of the shadow's damage despite the figure not being able to hold a physical form.

"What just…" Boomer trailed off, his voice hoarse with pain.

"Save it for later," Buttercup advised. Electricity radiated from her fingers, striking across the lake. "There's more of them."

The blond looked up, seeing the few dozen dark figures rise for the body of water. Each with the same sinister smile.

Boomer nodded, rising to his feet. His mind focused on the water in front of him, raising a sharp, hard current into the air and piercing it through three of the figures, destroying them. Buttercup struck them with lightning besides him, her face illuminating from the light.

"At least they don't take damage well," Boomer grinned.

"Yeah but they are multiplying faster than we can keep up," Buttercup pointed out. Every five they would destroy, fifteen more would rise from the lake. "And who knows how long we can keep this up, Boom? You were right about us lacking any training."

"I hate to say I told you so," Boomer replied, turning his back towards her to gain a view of the figures rising from the left side of the lake, creating more currents to act as a spear. Buttercup did the same, her back resting against his. "But I told you so."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, firing off more lightning bolts, "Whatever," she huffed. "This would be a lot more easier if Bubbles would help," Buttercup acknowledged, her voice getting louder when calling out for the blonde female.

Bubbles popped her up from behind the boulder where she, Blossom, and Butch were, catching Buttercup brief glare towards her.

"I don't like fighting," Bubbles defended.

"Well I don't like dying," Buttercup snapped, separating away from Boomer to move towards more of the right side of the lake while he took the left. "And as much as I love both of them, Blossom and Butch are basically useless right now."

Bubbles turned to the two beside her. Butch shrugged his shoulders and Blossom nodded.

"She has a point," Butch replied.

"But…" Her eyes fell on Blossom, "What if this makes me become what you saw?"

"Bubbles, I promise, you'll never be that person," Blossom eased.

Butch nodded, "I second that."

The blonde looked over the bounder again. Her first instinct was to run away. To leave her best friends for ten plus years to fend for themselves.

Bubbles immediately redacted the thought because she simply was not selfish enough to do such a thing. Furthermore, she did not want to run away anymore. She told herself she would not continue on with the trait of fleeting at the sign of conflict.

Well, here was an alarming huge amount of conflict and she has yet to back down, but Bubbles knew the only way she could prove herself.

She watched Buttercup and Boomer intensely, taking notice to them beginning to struggle as there was too many figures to defeat with just two people. Bubbles chewed down on her bottom lip, staring down at her hands, "I don't want to hurt them. What if they're alive?"

"They're fucking demons, Bubs," Butch challenged. "Pain is like kisses for them."

"Demons?" Blossom repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Butch, I think you've might have just done something."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain it later," the redhead responded, turning to Bubbles. "But for now, Bubbles, you can do this. I believe in you."

Bubbles nodded, pulling Blossom and Butch into a tight hug before rising to her feet and revealing herself from behind the boulder. She focused all of her attention on the coldness she felt inside of her. The pain and sorrow she had felt for months coursing through her, becoming like fuel to her as she channeled it towards her hands. Her fingers began to tinge as shards of ice began crystallize in her palms. Bubbles smiled mischievously to herself, freed from any negative emotions she has ever felt, lifting her hands up, swiftly striking the ice shards into ten of the shadows.

Buttercup's eyebrow arched as she witnessed this action, grinning at the blonde, "It's about damn time."

"Let's finish this," Bubbles grinned, sending out more shards of ice.

With the three fighting now, the size of the figures were beginning to noticeably decrease but they were still multiplying aggressively. With the heat and all the energy they were burning to control their powers, Boomer and Buttercup were starting to grow weak, sweating profusely. Bubbles attempted to pick up on the slack but was having a hard time keeping a consistence with her ice creations. No longer were they hard and sharp, but more frail and brittle, easily breakable by the shadows. It took five stabs of ice to finally make them disappear instead of one.

"This is starting to look bad for us," Butch muttered to Blossom, peeking over the rock.

"I know."

"I just wish we could do something," he grumbled. With that thought, his eyes flashed with an idea. "Can't you reverse time to when we were at the party? To make sure we don't come here?"

Blossom sighed loudly, slumping her shoulders in defeat, "I've already tried multiple times. Each time, I only freeze time for about ten seconds before everything starts back up again."

"So that's a no?"

"A very strong no."

"Ugh," Butch groaned, slamming his fist into the pebbles on the ground. "We're going to fucking die here… _again_."

The redhead's expression contorted with sadness, accepting the reality of the situation, "You may be right."

"Trust me, I don't want to be. I just want to do—" Butch paused, his eyes immediately focusing on Buttercup.

She was too distracted by the ten shadows in front of her to notice the figure creeping up behind her. Nor was Bubbles and Boomer paying any attention to notice as they were distracted by defending their own selves.

Butch quickly stood up, rushing over to his girlfriend, his mind focused on the need to protect her, "Buttercup!"

Buttercup snapped her neck around to him, shock striking across her face as she ducked to the ground to dodge the razor-edged rock heading towards her as the shadow behind her disintegrated.

Her eyes widened as she stood up again, "Butch, did you just…"

Butch stared down at his hands, concentrating on them. As he did this, the grains of gravel beside him rose up in the air, fusing together to form a jagged rock the size of his head. Butch stared wildly at his creation, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes, I fucking did!" He exclaimed, sending the rock through five of the shadow figures, vanishing them. The remaining dark figures stopped in their tracks for a few seconds, seeming to be suspended in time before continuing on with their attacks.

With Butch joining in, the number of shadows greatly downsized but also, they stopped multiplying. After Bubbles stabbed the last one, she fell to her knees, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead. She tried to regain her breathing as she looked over to find Boomer and Buttercup in the same position while Butch was crouching on the ground to comfort Buttercup.

Blossom rushed over to her, a warm smile plastered on her face, "You guys did it."

"Yeah…" Bubbles breathed. "We did."

The redhead glanced over to Butch, chuckling, "And Butch finally discovered his powers."

"He must…" She took a deep breath, "Be happy."

"Let's find out," Blossom suggested as Boomer had joined her side. Both decided to help Bubbles up, carrying her by wrapping her arms around their shoulders over to Butch and Buttercup.

Butch looked up at the three, beaming as he rubbed Buttercup's back to help sooth her. "Did you see that shit?"

Blossom and Boomer nodded while Bubbles smiled weakly in reply, "Yes, we did."

"Dude, I can fucking earthbend!"

"It's actually geokinesis," Blossom corrected.

Butch narrowed his eyes at her, speaking firmly, "Look Blossom, you're an amazing person and I love you like a sister but please let me live out this childhood dream of mine."

"Alright," she said cautious, putting up her hands to signal no harm.

"Great," he grinned, turning his attention back to Buttercup. "Are you feeling better?"

Buttercup nodded slowly, "Yeah. I just feel really weak... I think using our powers for too long can suck up all our energy but I should be fine after a shit ton of sleep."

"Oh, what I would do to be asleep right now," Bubbles approved, smiling dreamily.

Buttercup chuckled, grinning at the blonde, "At least we're all okay."

"I can agree with that," Boomer nodded. "I would also like to point out that it would have been the smarter decision not to come here."

"Come on, Boom. We won!" Butch beamed. "We beat those creepy fuckers and we won. I say it was better that we did come."

"It does let us know that Brute is somehow connected to the shadow," Blossom theorized, tapping her chin in thought. "Which could mean the Berserk and Brat are too."

"Maybe one of them is the pyro?" Bubbles gasped.

"I bet you it is Berserk," Buttercup added. "She seems like the type to find joy in destroying everything."

Butch rose from the ground, clearing his throat nervously. "As much as I love learning new breakthroughs in our little mystery, can we finally get the fuck out of this place before anything else fucked up happens?" Butch questioned, glad to see the four others nod in agreement. Picking Buttercup up bridal style as Blossom and Boomer each lifted up Bubbles by her shoulders again, Butch led the way back to the lake's parking lot.

None of them becoming aware of the audience of two hiding in the pine forest, who had been watching over them during the entire duration of their fight with the shadow figures.

* * *

 _September 2nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Bubbles never liked coming home past midnight. She knew how much it made her mom worry and Bubbles never liked doing that, so she always tried to make it home towards eleven. But given the events of night, Bubbles had to break the curfew she had implemented to herself.

Once Butch dropped her off, Bubbles could not help the powerful yawn that came to her as she reached her doorstep. Upon entering her house, Bubbles found the TV was on in the living room. It was a baseball game, which meant her dad was still up.

Since she has been avoiding him after learning his dark secret during the summer, Bubbles tiptoed her way up the stairs, successfully not making any noise that would have gained his attention.

She quickly threw herself onto her bed, never having experienced such a joy and comfort for her mattress before until this moment. Bubbles sighed contently to herself, pulling her phone out of her purse and plugging it into the charger near her bed. She took notice to the text message notification on her screen.

Bubbles smiled softly, finding it to be from Mike. It was a simple good night text, something they have gotten accustomed to doing for the past month. But this one was different. At the end, he asked if they could meet up in a week for a special date he has planned.

She could not respond fast enough, her cheeks brimmed with a light pink tint. Her fingers typed out a yes before tossing her phone on to the nightstand next to her. Letting her head fall back on the plush pillows on her bed, she found herself able to fall asleep with ease for the first time in months.

* * *

"Where have you been?" The shadow asked calmly. Their soulless eyes stared out to the lake in Townsville as an individual joined their side.

"I had business to take care of."

"Ah. Of course."

"And I thought I wasn't needed for this anyways."

"I thought so too," figure grumbled. "But tonight was a failure for us."

"I told you. They're smarter this time around."

"Perhaps," the shadow growled. Their hand stroked their chin before the corners of their mouth turned upward, "But in reality, this may be a victory for us in the long run with Butch triggering his powers sooner than normal."

The individual arched an eyebrow, "That accelerates everything."

"Indeed. It does," the figure grinned. "With that, it means our goal will be achieved at merely the year's end."


	5. The Ember

_September 5th_

 _Pineville, Louisiana_

 _10 years ago..._

They were transferring him again.

It would be the third home of the year. A personal record of his.

The first family did not like his constant attitude, which put stress on their already crumbling marriage. He was out of there within two months.

The second home had included him and three other younger foster children. It was not his first time sharing a home with others who were like him but he never personally liked any of them. He always felt they were competition for attention, and as individuals in the foster system, the slightest bit of attention was the only great thing about the entire process. The feeling of being important and not a burden being shuffled around from home to home. Family to Family.

Once he got caught stealing tires from the neighbor's car, the call to child services was quickly made. The foster parents claimed it was to protect the other children from getting influenced by him. In his mind, they were simply looking for a reason to get rid of him.

Being a teen in the foster program was rough. Parents were more keen about younger child because they could mold their minds. Make them similar to them. It would be like having their own child. But since he was thirteen and already had a cynical view on the world, they never favored him. They never made the offer to get to know him because he was not what they wanted or expected.

They did not like that he was already a person. He was not putty in their hands to craft.

It was no wonder why he acted out. He knew he was not wanted. It was an easier way to get out while he could instead of, whoever was his current foster parents at the time, admitted how much they did not want him.

He did not want to get attached to those who would never care about him nor did he feel like he was worth caring about.

He was a lost cause. Worthless. Unlovable.

In the future, he already grasped the concept of never amounting to anything because of who he was and what he has been through. The system would never let him. He would end up being another tragic story about a lost youth.

He would never be anything good.

He was Brick Patterson, son of a criminal and the dead. No one wanted him and no one ever would.

So as his social worker hyped him up about his new foster home on the drive there, telling him repeatedly on how, this time, it would be different. This time, it _would_ be his permanent new home.

Brick knew it was all a lie.

He continued to roll his eyes until the car parked, sitting outside of a modest two-story house painted a pale green. A short, dark-haired man stood outside on the porch, a coffee mug in hand and a broad smile on his face.

The car door next to him opened, his social worker grinning excitedly at him as he exited the car.

She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, speaking happily, "Brick, I want you to meet Morris Jojo. You're new foster parent…"

* * *

 _January 30th_

 _Pineville, Louisiana_

 _10 years ago..._

As he opened the door to his temporary home, Brick heard Morris called out his name. The redhead instantly rolled his eyes, knowing exactly why he was being summoned.

Brick had been causing some mischief at his school. Starting food fights, criticizing teachers during lectures, vandalizing some of lockers with _Sharpie_ and obscene images… Anything to get himself in trouble, Brick was committing with the most ridiculous amount of effort.

He wanted Morris to give up on him like everyone else did, and insinuating disciplinary stress was always the easiest way for him—it has at least worked in six out the thirteen homes he has lived in. After being called into the principal's office earlier in the afternoon, Brick fully expected them to have notified Morris about his antics.

Now all Brick had to do was act out while Morris began lecturing him and it would seal their fate. Brick would be moving out of Morris' home by the end of the month and he would be on to another foster home. The cycle would continue on until he was eighteen. Until he was a speckle of dust to society, waiting to be drifted away from existence.

Walking into the kitchen, Morris sat at the dining room table, folding the newspaper in front of him. He smiled at the redhead, gesturing to the chair next to him, "Sit."

Brick huffed, slinging his backpack around the back of the chair and taking a seat at the wooden table. His ruby-colored eyes narrowed at the man in front of him.

In the short months Brick has lived with Morris, he has not learned much about the man. He did know Morris was half Japanese, was not a fan of dogs, and he usually spoke in a rapid-pace, which was mostly him talking in circles. On Thanksgiving, he repeated the importance of saying "thank you" for the entire dinner.

"Your principal called me," Morris began, frowning slightly as his low voice filled the kitchen space. "Principal Brown, he told me about what you have been doing. He told me about all the trouble you have been causing. The trouble that is disrupting other students. He threatened punishment towards you. Punishment involving suspension and expulsion. This is because of all the trouble you have been causing."

Brick snorted, leaning back into the chair and folding his arms, "Yeah. So?"

He watched as Morris analyzed him. His dark eyes searched around Brick's face before sighing.

"Is there something I am doing wrong? Is there anyway I can make things better?" He asked rapidly. "I understand from your file that you have a habit of reacting in a disruptive manner at all your previous foster homes, but am I the cause of this trouble? Did I do something to cause this?"

"Umm…" Brick pursed his lips, confused by Morris' questions.

This was the first time one of his foster parents took blame for his behavior and not ridicule him. Usually, this was the point where one of his foster parents made the announcement on how Brick would no longer live with them. He continued to stammer, unsure on how to proceed.

"Is there anyway I can make you more comfortable? I have heard from doctors. Specialists in Psychology. They say moving. The constant movement can cause a reflex of emotions. It can provoke those in your age group to act out. Teens like you, cannot handle all the sudden changes. So you begin to act out," Morris paused, taking a breath before speaking quickly again. "Perhaps making you more comfortable would be better. I, for one, had trouble when I moved here. I did not like leaving my hometown. It broke my heart leaving. I, however, fixed my heartbreak by focusing my time on a passion of mine. I began spending my time on fixing cars because I love doing so. It helps sooth me and helps me feel at comfort. I, therefore, believe if you find something that makes you comfortable, you would not have the energy to fixate on your bad behavior. Your disruptive behavior."

Brick narrowed his eyes, "So what? You want me to get a hobby or something? Play sports like those other bozos in my classes. Yeah, right. I'm not doing that," he chuckled dismissively, shaking his head.

"You do not have to participate in sports," Morris replied. "Physical activities do not have to be your comfort. I, however, do think you should find something to occupy your time. You should find something you are passionate about." Morris tapped his chin in thought, squinting up at the ceiling. "Perhaps, I can show you how to fix cars. I am passionate about the area and an expert too. I, for one, would be happy to share something I love with you, Brick. It could help with your behavior. It can also help us bond as we should be bonding."

"You want to bond with me?" Brick questioned in disbelief. " _Why_?"

"Because I want you to be comfortable. You have been through a lot. Too much for someone your age. I want to give you a break from those difficulties. You are my responsibility now and I am going to take it seriously because you are a special young man, Brick," Morris grinned. "You will do big things in the future and I do not want your past to handicap you. I, for one, want you to achieve whatever you can. Your potential is endless. I can tell."

Brick furrowed his eyebrows, shocked by the entire exchange.

Morris saw potential in him? He believed Brick had a future?

No one had ever told him those things before.

Brick did not even see such things for himself.

It was the first time Brick has ever felt good about himself, and it was strange for Morris to be the cause of it but in a way, the redhead felt he had to meet Morris in the middle. He felt the need to make an effort because Morris was too.

And a little part of him wanted to make an effort. He wanted to give Morris a chance now.

Luckily, Brick knew the exact way how to start.

The corner of his mouth turned upward as he spoke, eyebrow raised, "In that case, tell me more about what you were saying about fixing cars."

* * *

 _July 15th_

 _Pineville, Louisiana_

 _7 years ago..._

Struggling to keep his eyes closed, Brick groaned to himself, rubbing his eyes. Mojo—a nickname he began calling Morris after living with him for a year; the longest he has ever been with a foster parent—had been making noise downstairs since seven o'clock in the morning. As much as the redhead tried to go back to sleep after being awakened, Brick could not. Instead, he tossed his covers to the side and walked down the stairs to the living room. His eyebrow shot up at the sight of Mojo frantically placing various items in cardboard boxes.

"What's going on?" Brick asked as he stood on the last step of the staircase, his voice cracking a little for just waking up.

Mojo paused what he was doing, his eyebrows furrowing in deep thought before speaking, "We're moving."

"Is that even legal?" The redhead chuckled.

"It is not. In the court of law, it is not legal for me to move you. It is not legal unless I am granted full custody of you. As you know, I have been trying to get custody of you for two years now. Two years of waiting for a decision. And now, the final court case will be next month," Mojo explained, beginning to pack the boxes again. "Afterward, I, finally, will have legal custody of you. With custody, we will be able to move."

Brick folded his arms, leaning against the railing of the staircase, his lips pursed, "I'm all for moving out of the shithole that is Pineville—"

"Language, Brick."

The redhead rolled his eyes, continuing, "But where exactly are we going to go?"

Mojo stopped again. His dark eyes stared out absently as his eyebrow twitched aggressively.

" _Townsville, Arizona_ ," he said softly. "My hometown. The place I was born and raised in. The town I lived in before coming to Louisiana. Before I met you."

"Townsville?" Brick snorted. "Sounds lame."

"That's too bad," Mojo murmured.

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "I guess… But don't you think this should have been a conversation between us? I mean, you are making us move across the country if you do get custody."

"I will get custody," the man said firmly, catching Brick off guard. "We will move back to Townsville together. I have to go back. Townsville, it's…" Mojo trailed off. His eyes meeting Brick's, becoming aware of how much he was freaking the redhead out. The short man sighed, "It is better if we do not discuss this any further, Brick."

"But—"

"I said it is better if we do not discuss this any further," Mojo spoke over him, narrowing his eyes.

Brick inhaled sharply, pushing against the railing and turning around. The disappointment festering under his skin due to Mojo treating him like he was not liable in the situation. From the lack of respect given to him. An unusual occurrence as Mojo treated Brick like an equal a majority of time.

Maybe there was more to Mojo than he knew.

"Good talk," he muttered, climbing the stairs up to his room and slamming the door behind him.

* * *

 _July 19th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _6 years ago…_

Brick never thought it could be possible. He never could have believed there was a bigger shithole than Pineville but Townsville really did change his opinion on the subject matter.

In his mind, the entire town was a mess. Divided by low-rated gang activity and the elites who did not want to recognize any of the underlying problems rooted in the town. Instead, they found expanding City Hall to be more productive and beneficial to the community.

Brick could not even fathom how a random woman who was not even running any political office in town could even have so much power over everyone but she did. For some reason, whenever Brick heard Sara Bellum's name, his skin began to crawl. He could not help feeling there was something not right with her.

Nonetheless, Sara Bellum was not the only thing he disliked about Townsville.

Perhaps it was the lack of privacy. No secrets were kept in Townsville as everyone spread word like rapid fire.

It could be the arid climate of the land. The constant dry air that made his eyes burn, has been a huge adjustment from the moist, humid air he was used to in Louisiana.

Maybe it was the tiresome small town vibes mixed with the aimless long days transpiring before him, in which created a restless soul within him, longing for an escape.

Or it had to do with the reality of his life. How he could be stuck in this town if he did not make any goals for himself.

Brick never thought about his future before Mojo but having someone's support and belief in him, it challenged the redhead's previous dismissal on the topic. Now he was trying to get into a University nearby—most likely Arizona State—so he would be close to Mojo but a good enough distance away from Townsville.

His SAT scores from his junior year of high school were high enough for him to get a few early offers from some schools in the area but Brick only needed to take his ACT in the fall and his future would be set.

Until then, the redhead would stay in the cargo bed of the _Ford_ truck he and Mojo had recently fixed up together, staring up at the stars as planes flew by, dreaming of the very day of when he finally leaves Townsville.

* * *

 _August 27th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _2 weeks ago…_

He hated coming into town. Brick could go for months at a time before he stepped foot in town—which was usually for new tools for the shop—but when he called Blossom in the morning to see if they could meet up and she suggested Otto's, the redhead could not find a good excuse to say no.

Well, Brick could go on a rant about how much he disliked Townsville, everyone who lived there, and everything the town stood for, but for obvious reasons, he did not.

He waited anxiously in his leather booth, tapping his foot below. Brick liked to believe his nervousness was from the subject they were going to discuss and not because he was going to see Blossom again after just being with her two days ago.

They had stayed in his truck until two in the morning. Their conversation moved easily and freely. She told him about her tumultuous relationship with some bastard named Henry. Blossom spoke with such raw emotions and pain when divulging the details, it pushed Brick to want to comfort her.

He could not though.

He could not let her get attached to him and doing such a thing would eventually lead to it.

Brick grumbled to himself, contemplating on whether he should leave now. This entire thing was a waste of time and he was only fooling himself. He would never be worth anything and he did not need to drag Blossom into any of this.

She has been through enough in her life already and Brick did not want to be more weight on her shoulders.

The redhead scooted to the end of the booth, preparing to walk out of the diner when the bell above the door chimed and Blossom walked in, a plastic bag in hand. A radiate smile on her face when she met his eyes. Brick immediately loosen the tension in his body, forgetting about his doubts as she joined him.

"Were you about to leave?" Blossom asked, an eyebrow raised as she sat down.

"You think I would stand you up like that, sweetheart?" Brick amused.

"I wouldn't put it pass you."

"Harsh."

She shrugged her shoulders before leaning into the table, "So what's up? I thought after Monday night, you would be sick of seeing me."

Brick snorted, "As nauseating as you are, I actually haven't stop thinking about your offer," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think… I think I should try to get my GED."

"For some reason, I had this gut feeling that you would agree," Blossom grinned, reaching into the plastic bag next to her and pulling out a thick book. "I even went to Citiesville yesterday and bought a test prep book to help."

"You're crazy, you know that?" Brick chuckled.

"Yet, you're listening to my advice," she pointed out, arching an eyebrow. "So I think that begs the question on who is more crazy?"

Brick rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He reached for the book, skimming through the pages. "Thanks for buying this, by the way."

"Well I am going to help you study," she shrugged.

The redhead male softly closed the book, the corners of his mouth turned downward. "Yeah, about that…"

"You don't want my help?" Blossom questioned, disappointment laced in her voice.

"I just…" Brick sighed, shifting his eyes out the window. His gaze lingered on the burnt ruins of the abandoned factory across the street. The familiar smell of smoke infiltrated into his lungs, reminding him on why this was a bad idea. "I think it would be a waste of your time. I practically live and breath math because of what I do. And believe it or not, I did pretty well on my SAT and ACT, so I'll just need to work on history… It doesn't seem worth your time, if I'm going to be honest."

"I don't think it's fair for you to determine what is worth my time or not," she responded.

Brick flickered his eyes back to her, finding her arms folded. Mixed emotions expressing through her rose-colored eyes. He could tell she wanted to be angry but was more so glum about his rejection to her offer.

If things were not so complicated, he would not be denying her help. He would actually be slightly happy about spending more time with her. But again, he could not risk getting too close to her.

"I'm simply stating the obvious, Blossom," he muttered. "It's… it's better this way."

He watched as she processed what he said, her eyebrows furrowing together as she pursed her lips.

"Are you trying to push me away?"

"What?" He asked rapidly, shocked. "I—Why would I–"

"Look, Brick," she interjected, shutting him up. "I know that you're sort of the loner in Townsville and you're not used to someone wanting to be there for you, but you should know, that's how things were before you met me, okay?"

"And what is that suppose to mean?"

She grinned at him, her eyes shining with determination, "It means you have someone who will support you because I know you're worth more than you even know."

"How can you be so sure?" He questioned, fidgeting slightly.

Her words.

They were too similar.

Too much for him to process and handle.

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, her eyes focusing on the book laying on the table in between them. "Like the book, I just have this gut feeling about you…" Her eyes widened immediately as she cleared her throat, "I mean, that um, I have a gut feeling that you can be more than you think… yeah, that's it."

Brick raised his eyebrows in amusement, grinning at her, "Thanks…"

"No problem," she mumbled, her cheeks becoming a bright red.

He chuckled to himself, leaning back into the booth. There were too many things on his mind.

The thought of telling her how cute he found her was prominent.

The idea of running out of the diner before it was too late was another one.

His conscience was fighting within him, warning him of the path he was going on. Informing him to make a swift decision or else it would not end up well for him, but most importantly, for Blossom.

One half rooted for him to navigate whatever this was between him and Blossom.

The other raged to him on the need to stick to what he knew. To focus on the plan he had already committed to.

The thing was, Brick never wanted to be a part of any of this. He had no other options when he made the decision. It was before Blossom waltzed into his auto shop and into his life.

It was before she reminded him of the future he abandoned a long time ago.

She was giving him hope again. A feeling he has not felt since…

He inhaled sharply, speaking rapidly, "I want you to help me."

"What was that?"

"I said I want you to help me."

Blossom glanced up at him, a soft smile dancing across her lips, "Are you sure?"

Brick nodded, "It was your idea and who am I to deny someone's help?"

He watched as Blossom flickered her eyes to his hand on the table, her hand slowly inching to his. Brick smiled subtley at her, reaching out for her's too, when the doorbell chimed, and his eyes darted to the newest customer to Otto's. The redhead quickly retracted his hand, clearing his throat as Blossom raised an eyebrow at him. He gestured towards the counter by the cash register, meeting the light green eyes of the dark-haired girl sitting there.

"Buttercup," he explained.

Blossom sighed, sinking into the booth after seeing her former friend. "I…"

"You should talk to her," he suggested.

She shook her head in disagreement. "It wouldn't work. I ran into her the other night and I swear my body got ten degrees colder after it."

Brick shrugged off her comment, "You've been telling me how much you want to make things better between you two, yet you keep avoiding it."

"I am not."

"Did you try talking to her last night?"

"Well, I…" She slumped her shoulders in defeat. "No. I just stood there like an idiot."

"Then you should go talk to her, sweetheart."

Blossom nodded, raising to her feet, "I'll be back."

"Take all the time you need," he encouraged, watching as she left him and took a seat next to Buttercup at the counter.

His eyes then shifted out the window again. The blackened walls of the factory taunting him. The hair on his arms standing up as goosebumps covered his body, alerting him that he was being watched.

It was the constant reminder that he would never be free. He would never do better despite how much he could try. And Brick could not even be angry anymore. It was what he deserved.

That was what he gets for selling his soul to the devil.

* * *

 _October 21st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _5 years ago…_

He must have stared at the computer screen for his entire lunch period. His reality not sunken in completely. Everything felt too surreal to him.

He got a perfect score on his math ACT and above average scores for the other sections.

He would be able to go to college because of these scores. Brick determined he would basically get to chose whatever University he liked with the test scores he received.

As the excitement and the truth of the situation finally sunk in, Brick only had one goal in mind.

He had to tell Mojo.

The redhead practically raced home, skipping his later periods. He would make up any assignments on another date. Right now, all Brick wanted to do was celebrate with his foster dad.

Rushing into his home, Brick dropped his backpack on the ground and called out for Mojo. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when there was no response met with. The redhead glanced out to the driveway, finding Mojo's car parked outside in it's usual spot, meaning he was home.

Brick checked the kitchen and backyard for Mojo but found no sound of him. He quickly climbed the stairs, telling himself to calm down. There was nothing to worry about. Mojo was probably in the shower or something and that was why he could not hear him.

The redhead's face contorted with confusion when he found Mojo's door cracked open. He pushed into the door, calling out to Mojo again. There still was not a response. Brick entered the room, his eyes immediately going to the center of the room where Mojo was laying unconscious on the ground.

Brick rushed over to him, kneeling on the ground. He grabbed Mojo's arm, checking for a pulse as he told himself not to cry.

There was a pulse but it was the faintest response Brick has ever felt.

He then pulled out his phone, dialing in three digits.

They picked up within the first two rings.

" _911, what's your emergency_?"

* * *

 _September 5th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 weeks ago…_

"Define Reaganomics."

Brick squinted his eyes at Blossom, trying to formulate an answer. They were in the office of Jojo's Auto Repair. She was sitting on the counter, while he was leaning against it, cleansing his hands with rag to remove any grease stains on them despite knowing he would get them dirty again in a few minutes. This was a routine they started since he agreed to her helping him. She would show up at the shop around ten in the morning. He would take fifteen minutes breaks between each hour, in which she would quiz him on various history questions. Then he would go back to work and Blossom would work on her homework for the classes she was taking at the community college.

"I guess it has something to do with Reagan," he replied unsurely. "Right?"

Blossom nodded, laughing lightly, "But that's not what I asked."

Brick rolled his eyes, "Yeah... I don't have the slightest clue."

"I don't get it," she grinned.

"Get what?"

"How you're so inclined in everything but history. That's one of the easiest subject."

"For you, probably," he shrugged. "But you also have an advantage considering your mom is involved in politics and that practically revolves around history."

"True but it does not explain why you haven't made an progress."

"I haven't?" He exasperated, dropping the rag in his hand. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Blossom pursed her lips, glancing down at the test prep book on her lap, "Every time we study, you only get about seven questions right."

"Well it's not my fault they expect you to remember so much irrelevant shit. I mean, who gives a fuck about the industrial revolution?"

"Literally everyone, Brick," she chuckled. "It's the reason why we have cars and cellphones. It is the starting point of the modern age and it helped America become a superpower."

"I thought that was because of World War Two?"

"See," Blossom grinned, her eyes lighting up at him. "You know something."

"That doesn't really answer my question…"

"Both are causes to America becoming a superpower," Blossom explained. She began swinging her legs slowly. "With history, everything is overarching and interconnected. There is nothing that is truly an isolated event."

"So there always a cause and effect?"

"Precisely."

Brick sighed, shaking his head, "Again. Too much information."

"I think we should take a break," Blossom suggested, shutting the book in her lap and placing it besides her on the counter.

"Then I should go finish the _Camaro_ in the garage," he responded, pointing to the door behind him.

"That's not what I meant, Brick," she replied, reaching out for him. Her hand wrapped around his arm and pulling him closer to her. His stomach, now, was pressing against her knee.

Brick raised an eyebrow as she moved her hand up to his shoulder, "Then what did you mean?"

"I just want to talk."

"About?"

"Anything."

Brick chuckled to himself, noticing the pink shade rising in her cheeks. He moved himself, removing her hand from his shoulder. Brick positioned himself in front of Blossom, his hands lying flat on the counter beside her hips. Their faces were merely a few inches apart.

"I feel like there's a specific topic you want to discuss," he said casually despite his better judgement telling him to knock it off. To end the conversation and cut all ties with her.

It warned him of the danger he was committing. The fear of dragging Blossom into the intangible mess that he was.

"There might be," she whispered, her fingers tracing against his forearm.

"Then please, inform me."

"I… You know I trust you, right?"

Brick nodded but furrowed his eyebrows in response, "Yeah?"

"Like, I did trust you enough by telling you about what is happening." Brick stared at her unfazed, a similar reaction he had when she told him about the others having powers. He has known for quite some time about them. The redhead was only caught off guard by her being involved, which was strange considering he should have known. He was suppose to be in the know about everything going on, yet his "associate" never mentioned Blossom to him. "And I also told you about Henry."

"You did."

Blossom exhaled soundly, her eyes focusing on her hands in her lap, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's obvious that I trust you but do you trust me?"

"What makes you think I don't trust you?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"The fact I don't know much about you," she answered. "You only give me snippets or edited responses—which is fine. We haven't known each for that long… but we are spending almost everyday together and the most I've gotten about you from it, is that you are a clean freak and you're terrible in history."

"Like you said, we haven't known each for a long time. It's nothing personal, sweetheart. I promise."

"So in the future you will be more open with me? Or will you still be secretive?" She asked. "Because you know I'm curious and you're a huge mystery to me, Brick."

"Does it even matter if I do?" He deflected.

"Yeah, it does," Blossom said firmly. "I want to get to know you."

"I'm going to save you the time and effort, and tell you that is a very bad idea."

"Why are you like this?" She huffed in frustration due to his response.

"Like what?"

"Why do you hate yourself so much?"

"I… I don't," he lied, swallowing hard afterward.

He watched as Blossom examined his face. Her pink eyes never being removed from him before she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Maybe, you're right," she whispered. "I should have never agreed to this."

This was his opportunity.

His way to end anything happening between them before it was too late.

All he had to do was agree with her.

A simply and easy task

So it did not surprise him when he could not even do that right.

"Don't say that."

"Why not? You spend most of the time acting like I'm nuisance and—"

"You're not a nuisance," he interjected. Brick inhaled sharply before continuing on, "I'm just a big fucking grump sometimes, okay? You're actually like the sun to me. You come to this outdated shop, brighten up my day, and make me less of an antisocial loser. You make things seem... so easy and attainable. I haven't felt this way in a long time and it's just been hard trying to be optimistic for once after being a pessimism for my entire life. I just… you're a good person, sweetheart. Despite everything that has happened to you, you're still an all around good person. And I don't want to be another person who breaks you."

She smiled softly at him, leaning her forehead against his, "Thank you."

"No problem."

Blossom moved her hand up, tracing her fingers along his jawline, "You're a good person too, Brick."

His entire body stiffened with her comment. He took a step back, coughing to himself to ease the rejection, "I should get back to work."

"Oh," she murmured, sorrow in her eyes. "Okay."

He did not reply, heading into the garage without a second glance. Blossom's words replayed in his mind. Sticking to his skull.

" _You're a good person_ …"

Brick wished it was true. He wished he could tell himself that. He wished he could believe it.

But he would never be good.

Therefore, he would never be good enough for Blossom.

* * *

 _October 21st_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _5 years ago…_

" _You're lucky that you found him when you did_ …"

It was first thing the doctor said to him, followed by describing the criticalness of the heart attack Mojo experienced. It was an attempt by the doctor to make Brick feel like a hero of sorts.

He did not want to go along the idea.

Instead, Brick sat solemnly in the uncomfortable hospital chair besides the bed in the room, staring at all the tubes hooked up to Mojo. A ventilator produced the rise and fall of his chest. The compressing sound of the machine being the only thing amplified in his ears as the doctor's medical jargon was unheard by him.

The only thing catching his attention was the reality of the situation.

Mojo would be in a coma for some time after going without oxygen for too long. They are unsure when he would wake up or even if he would wake up.

They were giving him hollow advice of not to get his hopes up and to be prepared for the worst.

Brick wanted to laugh when they said that.

He found it ironic on how the moment he did get his hopes up, everything was crashing down around him. Brick got too excited, preventing himself to stop and be cautious about his life. He should have known better. Whenever anything good happened in his life, there was pain to which followed. However, he had ignored the pattern and now had to deal with the consequences.

Brick had to remember he was poison and everything he touched would soon be poisoned.

Everything he worked for in the past four years with school, seemed abysmal in comparison to what has happened to Mojo.

He could die.

Brick could be left alone again.

Unwanted again.

He reached out to Mojo, squeezing on his hand gently. Brick wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, unsure of what to do next.

Unsure what to make of his life now.

But he did know one thing.

He needed Mojo.

He needed him to get better.

"Hang in there, Mojo," he whispered before standing up and leaving the room, no longer interested in torturing himself by being in the hospital room any longer. Unable to deal with the guilty conscious and heartache growing in his chest.

* * *

 _November 22nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _5 years ago…_

It had been a month since Mojo was hospitalized and there had been no signs of any progress. He was still dependent on a machine to breath. No longer having any sense of quality of life.

Or at least, that was what Brick imagined it was like. He had not be able to visit hospital again after the first day. The redhead could not bare to see Mojo in such a state.

He also did not have any time to even consider visiting since Brick was busy with schoolwork, filling out college applications before habitually deleting them, and running Jojo's Auto Repair. With Mojo's absence and the shop being the only source of income, Brick had no choice but to step up and to begin working there.

Brick also had to manage the bills for the house, hospital, and for the shop, which was what he was doing at the moment, finding it completely impossible to pay all three.

If he worked more than the afternoons, then they could make more money.

If Mojo would wake up, there would not be anymore outrageous hospital bills that continued to pile up.

If Brick sold the house, there would be a sufficient amount of money to pay things off for at least a year.

Out of the three, there was no point in having faith in the second option. The third choice was the most practically, considering they lived in a three bedroom house and it was only Brick who was making use of it. If he moved out, the only repercussion would be the disappointment Mojo may have after waking up to see he no longer had the same home.

But Brick knew it would not matter. Mojo would not be waking up because nothing good like that happened in his life. Therefore, Brick would just sell the house.

He could sell the auto shop too. It would make things easier for him when he left for college—but that was only if he finally submitted something instead of giving up.

He continued on, sorting through the rest of the mail, stumbling across something from City Hall. Brick immediately opened the envelope, reading the contents inside. It was letter asking Mojo and him if they were still interested in finalizing Brick's last name changed.

The redhead had forgotten Mojo was trying to get this approved due to feeling like since Mojo got full custody, he was already a Jojo. Or at least, he has felt like one.

He was running the shop like he was given the name.

Brick, without any hesitation, signed his name in authorization for the name change. He slipped the letter into a new envelope, writing down the mailing address along with it.

He grinned weakly at the envelope, feeling for the first time in a month, proud of himself.

Brick was proud of finally being a Jojo officially. To carry on the legacy of the best person he has ever met.

The redhead frowned at the thought, realizing the weight of the reality now. He would have to carry on Mojo's legacy, yet, here he was deciding to sell off the one thing Mojo loved the most.

His shop.

Brick looked over the finances again, finding he coulc only keep the shop open for more than two more years, even if he sold the house. He would only be able to afford it if he worked at the shop everyday, all day.

Then there was the chance he did get into college. He would have to close the shop then.

In the process of considering his options and the heaviness of the situation, Brick was brought to a simple but hard decision.

He would have to drop out if he wanted to keep the shop open.

He would have to give up on college in order to continue on Mojo's legacy.

Brick would have to settle with merely just being a mechanic for the rest of his life because that was all he could amount to with the decision.

Was it worth it? Was it the smart choice?

Of course not, and Brick knew that.

But he did not care because if he was able to keep the shop open for Mojo, it compensated for all of it.

Even if it meant Brick had to let go of any of the plans for his future. He no longer had a choice in his future because life was unfair but he had to roll with it.

Brick always did, even if he was miserable and was slowly becoming the shell of the person he had developed into over the past five years.

Even if it seemed like he was going to lose the one thing he liked about his life, Brick knew he would go through with everything.

He did always tell himself that he would never be anything, so this did not surprise him.

The only difference was, he was no longer Brick Patterson, son of a criminal and dead mother.

He was Brick Jojo, foster child of Morris Jojo.

And that was how he comforted himself.

It was what would keep him motivated throughout the rest of his life.

* * *

 _September 1st_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _About week and half ago…_

He should have done this a long time ago. He should not have tried to avoid everything.

At least now he could make an effort again.

Brick inhaled sharply, counting down the room numbers until he got to 1118. He paused at the doorway, taking in the chilling atmosphere of the room.

There were no balloons. No flowers. No cards. Nothing like the cliche hospital scenes on television shows.

Just the dull wallpaper, depressing fluorescent lighting, and the sound of the ventilator pumping up and down.

After a minute or two, Brick finally stepped into the room, taking a seat in the chair by the bed like he did five years ago.

His ruby-colored eyes focused on the man lying unconscious on the bed.

Mojo had lost a lot of weight, appearing like skin and bones now. His hair trimmed down by the nurses. He seemed to be fragile to the touch. No longer apart of the living but have not broken through to whatever waited for him on the other side.

In the past years, the doctors have called Brick multiple times, asking if he wanted to pull the plug on Mojo's life support. Every instance, the redhead had said no immediately. He could not bare the thought of being the one to end Mojo's life.

But being here. Seeing how much Mojo was no longer Mojo, it made him reconsider his decisions.

Perhaps it would be better if he did let go. Say goodbye and get it over with.

However, there is so much Brick owned to Mojo, he could not be the one to end his life.

Even if he was becoming a monster himself, Brick could never be one to Mojo.

Furthermore, things could change if everything worked out.

If the promise was kept.

Brick sighed, staring down at the shiny tiled floor, catching himself off guard when he began speaking.

"I sold the house," he confessed in a breath. "I dropped out of school too… I never went to college like we planned. I never became what you thought I could. I… The shop is still opened, though. I've been running it for the past five years. It's probably the easiest thing I've done during all of this. Sometimes... it makes me feel closer to you. As if none of this happened. Crazy, right?"

Brick glanced up at Mojo, watching his chest fill up and deflate like a balloon. The ventilator responding back at him.

"I know," he chuckled, slumping his body in the chair. "It's crazy… And I've… I haven't been making the best decisions lately. In fact, they are terrible but I can't change them. If I back out… well, I don't want to talk about that. All I know is, if you saw what I've been doing, you wouldn't be proud. That's probably the hardest thing about it. It doesn't matter that I'm doing it for you. You would have never approved of any of this, Mojo… but you have been gone for so long that I forget what it is like to feel good about myself. I forgot how to not make reckless decisions…"

The redhead paused, noticing a nurse walking by the door and heading down the other side of the hallway. He continued on after she was out of earshot.

"And I know I'm not in fucking high school anymore and I'm a grown man now but… there's this girl. She's literally amazing," Brick smiled weakly. "After you, she's the best person I've ever known… she's also the only person after you, who has believed in me. She sees the same thing that you did, and I don't know what it is with you two, but I can't bare with disappointing either one of you… I just know that once she knows me—the real me—she'll want nothing to do with me… I keep doing everything I can do to keep her at arm's length but everyday, she gets closer and closer to me. And I think I'm beginning to fall for her too… I guess what I'm trying to say is, I wish you were able to give me some advice because I know you would have the right thing to say. You always did."

Brick watched over Mojo silently for a couple minutes before deciding there was not much else to say. He rose to his feet, taking steps towards the door but pausing at the foot of the bed. His eyes grew warmer as he stared at Mojo.

"I'm sorry I never visited, by the way… Like everything else, I forgot how to live life. I forgot what it was like to care for someone… I forgot what it was like to be human, and I'm sorry," he muttered.

He began walking again, not bothering to look back. Brick only uttered two words under breath before exiting the room.

" _Good talk_."

* * *

 _August 23rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _2 weeks ago..._

It was strange how alive he felt whenever using his powers. How something so destructive could give him a fleeting sense of comforting warmth.

His eyes lingered on the trail of flames he created, watching as they crawled up the walls, consuming the brittle brick of the abandoned factory.

The dense smoke of the blaze intensifying in his lungs as the flames crackled around him. Brick faintly smiled at the chaos he created, seeing the twisted beauty in the illuminating fire around him.

He kept his mind on this thought.

Not on why he was destroying the factory.

Not on what repercussions he may have caused.

And not on how he did not want any part in this.

Soon enough, an ominous cloud of shadows surrounded his body, transporting him across town.

His "associate" crept in the shadows, grinning at the elimination of the abandoned factory.

"Fire," they marveled. "My favorite form of chaos."

Brick could sense them turn to him. Their demonic eyes peered into his soul, "Congratulation. We're one step closer now."

Brick did not say anything back. Instead he looked on as the roof of the factory began to collapse in on itself, adding more to the fire.

Never letting himself forget that he caused this and would be the reason for anything that follows.

Any blood would be on his hands, and given what he already known, there would be bloodshed.

Too much bloodshed.

* * *

 _September 14th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom stared down at her laptop, frustrated with her most recent assignment for her biochemistry class. She groaned to herself, deciding she needed to take a break before her head exploded—it did not help that her head always felt like it was going to explode because of the side effect of her powers but alas.

To distract herself, the redhead traveled downstairs to refuel on a late night snack. Wrapped in a cotton blanket from her room, Blossom stumbled across her mom gathering a stack of files and placing them in her briefcase.

Blossom pursed her lips, contemplating on going back up the stairs to avoid any interaction with her mom, as she has been doing since Labor Day when Bubbles told her about her mom's affair. The redhead wanted to confront her mom about it but she was waiting for the right time when her mom was not so preoccupied by her work—which was a truly rare occasion.

"Blossom," her mom grinned, peering over her briefcase, startling Blossom out of her thoughts. She smiled sheepishly at her mom, entering the kitchen, no longer able to avoid her.

"Hey," she mumbled, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on their counter and peeling it open. Her rose-colored eyes inspected her mom's briefcase. "Working on a late night assignment?"

"I'm actually going to City Hall," her mom replied. "I have a lot of work to catch up on and I cannot seem to focus here for the life of me."

"Oh…"

Blossom froze. Her body becoming paralyzed.

Her mom was going to City Hall at night. No one else would be there.

Tonight was the night.

It was the night her mom would perish in the City Hall fire from her vision.

"Are you alright, Blossom?"

"Huh?" Blossom blinked, becoming aware of her surroundings once again. "Yeah, yeah. I just blanked out, you know…" She faked a yawn, covering her mouth. "Just super tired."

"You should be, considering you been coming home at one in the morning during the weekdays," her mom acknowledged, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, um…"

"Blossom," her mom sighed, closing her briefcase. "You're nineteen. You're allowed to do whatever you want—as long as it is legal and will not reflect negatively onto me—but as I said, you can do what you want. But I do want you to be sure you're not wasting your time here. Whether it is _what_ you're spending most of your days doing whatever you are doing in town everyday or _who_ you are spending your time with. Just making sure it is not a waste of your time. Got it?"

Blossom narrowed her eyes slightly at her mom, feeling as if what she was saying was merely a threat candy-coated by motherly advice. A threat implying she knew about Blossom's routinely visits to Jojo's Auto Repair.

A threat to warn Blossom to reconsider her time with him.

"Yup."

"Perfect," her mom grinned. Her heels clacking against the tile floor of the kitchen as she walked towards the door. "Sleep well, honey."

Blossom nodded halfheartedly, her stomach sinking at the sight of her mom leaving the house even if her mom was not her favorite person as of lately.

She had to protect her.

She had to prevent whatever happened in her vision.

Blossom immediately ran up the stairs in her home, racing into her room to put on something that was not pajamas. Her phone pressed up against her ear as she called Bubbles.

The blonde did not answer but did send a text swiftly, stating she was not in Townsville. Blossom raised an eyebrow at this but decided she would ask Bubbles about it later.

She then called Buttercup but got no response. Same with Butch.

Boomer answered but quickly said it was a bad time before hanging up on her without any input from her, leaving Blossom with no other options.

She would have to deal with this on her own.

The redhead rushed down the stairs, grabbing her car keys.

She was going to save her mom.

No one was going to die tonight.

* * *

 _December 8th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _5 years ago..._

The house sold faster than Brick could imagine. A blonde lady named Amelie Fatale had paid over the asking price as long as she got all the furniture in the home and Brick had to move out of the house before the year's end. Brick was lucky enough to have found an isolated one bedroom home just outside of Townsville to rent out, therefore making him able to go through with the purchase.

With the money from the house and an increase in income from him working full time at the shop, Brick did not need to worry about barely making ends met. He could live comfortably.

He could be content with his life.

But of course, Brick never was.

He, however, tried to keep the thought out of his mind as he cleaned out his former home and load up the boxes for moving. His room was already stuffed into three cardboard boxes and a major of Mojo's stuff was thrown away.

All Brick had left was the kitchen and clearing out Mojo's desk in the living room. The redhead decided to start with the desk first since it required the least amount of work.

Most of the items were paperwork for the shop from the eighties. A few photos from the past. Then ten newspaper articles.

Brick arched an eyebrow, reading the various headlines.

 _ **Local Mechanic runs for Mayor!**_

The redhead smiled at the photo of Mojo illustrated on the paper. He had no clue Mojo ran for office.

 ** _Mechanic polling ahead over incumbent Mayor!_**

 ** _Why is Jojo appealing to the people of Townsville?_**

 ** _Sara Bellum denounces Morris Jojo as a candidate._**

Brick rolled his eyes at the mention of Sara Bellum. He hated how she always seemed to appear whenever things got political. She could never let anyone make up their own decisions.

 ** _Bellum continues her path to derail Jojo's campaign._**

Brick frowned at the final five headlines in his hand.

 ** _Morris Jojo outed as a Homosexual!_**

 ** _Bellum will not apologize for outing local mechanic._**

 ** _Jojo drops out of Mayoral race after homophobic backlash._**

 ** _Local mechanic has gone AWOL after fall from grace._**

 ** _Incumbent Mayor reelected!_**

Brick crumbled up the articles out of anger, tossing them into the trash. He wished he had known. He wished Mojo had told him the truth.

Mojo should have told Brick how he was practically kicked out of Townsville.

Mojo should have told Brick how vile of a person Sara Bellum was.

The gut feeling Brick had about her was hundred percent correct. She was not to be trusted, and if it was up to Brick, he was going to get revenge for Mojo.

He would be the one to ruin Sara Bellum, just as she did the same to Mojo.

He would be the end of her.

* * *

 _September 14th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

No one else was in town. The traffic lights flickered from green to red with no audience. The thick warm air intensified the pressure in him, physically and mentality.

 _He should not be doing this..._

Brick settled his eyes on City Hall before crossing the street over. His "associate" had transported him into town instead of him driving in case of any witnesses who could correlate the crime with him by his truck being outside the building.

He was trying to convince himself this was necessary. He had to do this. This was his way of keeping up his side of the deal.

 _What would Mojo think..._

Mojo would not have anything to think, he told himself. Mojo has been in a coma for five years. There was no chance he would survive by himself.

The only chance they had, was if Brick went through with this.

He had been canvassing City Hall from a distance. He knew to keep his lingering eye a secret because of the conversations between Butch and Boomer about their patrols to prevent the mysterious pyro. Their lack of knowledge to who was the pyro. Not having the slightest indication they were sitting right next to the pyro as Brick listened to every single detail they shared.

Brick was ashamed by the fact he was using his friends for information but in a matter of time, they would not want anything to do with him. They would see person he has had to become.

They would end up like everyone else in his life.

A reminder of how no one would ever want him, therefore he was making it easier for them.

He was going to betray their trust to make the decision easier for them.

 _What about Blossom? She would not be happy with you. She will think you are a monster. A piece of shit…_

Brick fumbled with his footing, catching himself midair. The thought of Blossom's would-be reaction reflected in his mind.

She would look at him with her soft pink eyes, heartbroken by the lost of potential she believed he had. He could hear Blossom saying how he could have been something. He could have been good if he just let himself to be.

Brick could hear the pain in her voice, grinding in his ears.

He needed it to stop.

The voices in his head were becoming too much for him. His conscience screamed constantly, provoking him to do better.

To become the person Mojo and Blossom saw.

Brick stared up at the white pillars lining the outside of City Hall, knowing this was it.

The factory fire was never a big deal to the citizens of Townsville. Unexpected? Yes. But did they care? No.

City Hall though. It was a symbol to the town. It established power. Displayed the control and community in Townsville. Burning it down would convey the sense of anarchy, the very reason why he was tasked with destroying the building.

In the morning, the fire would be framed on the Gangreen Gang as a way to retaliate against the factory fire. The tensions between the regular citizens and the members of the Gangreen Gang would diverge into chaos.

Chaos was the key.

It would always be the key

But if he did not burn City Hall to the ground, Brick could leave the door open to change.

This was his crossroads. The fork in the road.

 _Go home…_

Brick lifted his hand, glancing at the palm of his hand, feeling the warmth tingling through his body until he was boiling hot to the touch. Sparks of light rose from the center of his palm.

This was it.

His time to make a decision.

He reached out to touch the foundation of the building, his hand hesitating. Just a few more inches and the contact from his hand would set City Hall ablaze.

His finger tips lightly pressed against the wall.

Brick shut his eyes, exhaling deeply. He retracted his hand, shaking out the growing flame bubbling under his skin.

He slowly peeked out, examining the untouched structure in front him. Brick glanced back and forth, quickly picking up his pace to get out of town, knowing it would not be long until his "associate" would notice City Hall was not destroyed. Making a sharp turn on a corner in front of City Hall, his shoulder crashed into another's.

His hand reaching out to catch the other person as he kept both of them stable.

"Sorry…" He breathed, looking to find who he ran into. His conscience laughed at his expense from the irony of him running into her.

It had to be Blossom, of all people.

Blossom tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, an eyebrow raised at him, "Brick? What are you doing here?"

"I can ask you the same thing," he deflected.

"I asked you first."

"I, uh, had to come into town to buy some…" Brick trailed off, his eyes scanning over the various stores on the street. "Tools."

"Tools?"

"Yeah. I'm mechanic and I need new tools."

"At ten o'clock at night when everything shuts down at sundown here?"

"Hey, Tommy keeps his shop open late sometimes."

"Yeah, I'm totally convinced," Blossom deadpanned.

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "Suit yourself, sweetheart. Now why are you here?"

She tossed her eyes to City Hall, concern reflected off of her face, "I came to help my mom out. She's behind at work and comes here at night to take advantage of the emptiness."

Brick raised his eyebrows, following Blossom's eyes to the building. He was astonished to know Sara Bellum was currently in there.

He could have killed her.

He would have killed Blossom's mom.

A sense of relief washed over his entire body, accepting he had made the correct decision for once.

"So then why are you out here now?"

"Huh?" She turned back to him, snapping out of her thoughts. Blossom shifted her weight, "Oh. She, um, said that I was distracting her, so I decided to give her some room to breath for a little while."

"That sucks," he said softly, taking a step closer to her.

"It's fine," Blossom murmured, her eyes drifting anywhere but Brick. "I…"

"Are you okay?"

His eyes analyzed her face, which appeared paler than normal in the cascading light of the streetlights. Her face had acquired a little weight, no longer making her features seem sharp and jagged. It was more soft and subtle. Loose strands of her orange hair were sticking out from the heat and their collision. Her small but plump lips were pursed in thought.

Brick felt his chest tighten, still in awe of her beauty as he was the first time they met.

"Yeah…" she muttered, nodding her head. Her rose-colored eyes finally meeting his. A secret swirling behind them but Brick could not figure out what it was. "I'm just glad I ran into you."

"Me too," he smiled.

She tossed her head to the side, gesturing to the parking lot on the outside of the building, "Do you…" Blossom lifted a hand to her forehead, massaging the side of it as she spoke, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"What about your mom? She wouldn't be too please if you abandon her."

"She didn't want me here to begin with."

Brick gave her a quick nod, darting his eyes quickly over to City Hall one last time. He needed to get out of town fast. There was no telling how much time he had left until his "associate" finds out the truth.

"In that case, I would love too," Brick answered with a wide grin. He paused, arching an eyebrow. "But only if we get as far as we can from Townsville."

"Trust me," she replied. "I have the perfect place in mine… It's just going to be about a four hour drive."

Brick took another step closer to her. His frame towering over her as they were inches apart. "Let's do it," he breathed.

Blossom nodded, smiling coyly. She took a step back, taking in a deep breath before jingling the keys to her car.

"Also, I'm driving and you can't back out now."

Brick narrowed his eyes at her, folding his arms, "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"I'll let you figure that out at the end of our adventure," Blossom teased.

"Yup," Brick groaned. "I'm totally going to regret this."

* * *

"Are you going to let me in on where it is exactly that we're going?" Brick asked, his eyes drifted out of the window of Blossom's car. The vast desert and cacti was not singling him in on any clues as of yet. There was not even another car on the road going either way from them. As far as he knew, they could still be in Townsville; but they could not, since they have been on the road for two hours now.

In those two hours, the pair have spent the time exchanging surface details about themselves in which neither realized they had neglected to speak about beforehand. Brick did not want to admit on how he felt like they did not need to discuss such things because he felt they already knew each other. As if he knew every detail there was about Blossom.

It was for that reason he was not surprised when she said her favorite movie was _Singin' in the Rain_ nor when she explained her love for musicals and documentaries. When she expressed her adoration for _Adele_ and _Lorde_. He was not even shocked about her dislike towards the horror genre of film and television or her guilty pleasure of reading celebrity autobiographies.

Every single detail, Brick felt like as if he already heard them before, simply smiling softly as Blossom confessed to him about her interests. It calmed his mind in a sense of confirmation on how he did know her. That this was Blossom and he was suppose to know her. But it also made him mildly uncomfortable on the fact of how he did not know why he knew these things about her. His mind grew fuzzy, like snow on a television screen, when attempting to figure it out before he decided it was not important at the moment.

"Nope," she grinned amusingly, her eyes focused on the long road ahead of them. The silver lighting of the moon and the millions of stars were the only sources of light besides her headlights.

"I don't know how I feel about that."

"Just trust me, Brick."

"I trust you," he responded, arching an eyebrow. "But it doesn't mean I don't want to know where you're taking me."

"I could take us back to Townsville if it's a such a problem," she teased, glancing over to him for a second.

"Fine," Brick huffed. "I'll be patient."

"Good," Blossom grinned.

"Hey, don't get so smug, sweetheart."

He watched as Blossom laughed lightly. The moonlight highlighted the soft features of face. Her lips were curved into a subtle smile.

"Is it strange that I don't think you've ever called me by my name?"

"I have…" he paused, recalling any instances. "Once."

"Why is that?"

"What? You don't like sweetheart? It's not endearing enough?" Brick teased with a grin.

"No. I actually like it," she said quietly, coming out as a feathery whisper. "But I'm just curious as to why. Do you not like my name or something?"

"Actually…" Brick settled his lingering gaze on her profile, memorizing the slope of her button nose. The way her hair cascaded like a auburn waterfall. Everything was smooth and delicate. A timeless beauty. "I think Blossom is a beautiful name." He shrugged his shoulders to lighten his response. "It's different."

Blossom smiled at his reply, but Brick could tell there was something more on her mind.

"...And what about my last name?" She questioned cautiously but her voice contained a sharp edge.

Brick inhaled loudly, his eyes lowering to console between them. "I'm not a fan of the 'Bellum' name, if I'm going to be honest."

"And what caused that?"

"Your mom ruined my foster dad," he said quickly. The unacquainted heaviness from his chest lifted from his body and disappeared into the endless darkness of the night. A relief Brick did not realize he needed until this moment. He did not know how much he wanted to share this secret with Blossom. How desperate he needed to. "She outed him to the whole town; which given the times, ruined his character to the point he had to move out of town."

For a moment, Blossom remained quiet. Her rose-colored eyes peering emotionless at the road ahead of them. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

Then she let out a sigh. One worn-out, heavy-soul breath oozing with tiredness.

Blossom pulled the car over to the side, placing it in park. Her eyes studied Brick before speaking.

"It's hard…"

"What is?"

"Knowing all of the terrible things my mom is capable of doing," Blossom whispered, running a hand through her orange locks. "I should hate her. She's probably the worst person I know but I love her. She's my mom and it's just… unconditional love can be a tricky thing that I haven't figured out."

"Oh…"

He could not find anything else to say. Brick did not feel like he had any place to say anything.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, settling her hand on his knee. "I'm sorry for the pain my mom caused. I'm sure Mojo did not deserve it."

Brick nodded, drifting his eyes out the window to avoid Blossom's stares. The space of the compacted car seeming to close in on him as he was conflicted. This was either a moment to make a move or to keep a bridge between them.

He opted with the bridge.

It was easier.

Way easier for her and her safety.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he dismissed. "It's just a thing of the past now."

"I guess," Blossom breathed, her mouth creasing downward, magnifying her disappointment. Her hand retreated from Brick. She removed the car from park, pressing onto the gas pedal and beginning their drive again.

A good five minutes transpired before either of them spoke again.

"I just want to make this clear… You don't have a vendetta against my mom, right?" She asked, her voice shaking a little.

Brick furrowed his eyebrows. His mind going back to City Hall and how he almost burnt Sara Bellum alive. A sick feeling passed through his body at the thought, itching underneath his skin.

"No," he answered firmly. "I did have one when I was eighteen but I'm twenty-three now. I'm not the same immature teen making brisk decisions anymore."

Another silence minute passed. The sound of the tires of the car driving smoothly over the gravel road being amplified to them.

"Do you think I'm immature?" Blossom asked quietly.

"Why would I think that?"

"Because I'm nineteen," she shrugged. "I can't drink legally. I don't live on my own. I've never had a job nor paid a bill before…" Blossom paused, inhaling. "Because I let Henry take advantage of me."

Brick turned to her, his jaw tightening at the mention of Henry.

"First of all, fuck Henry. That guy is lucky he doesn't live here," Brick said through his teeth. His hand grew warm from his rage. Taking a deep breath, Brick calmed himself down, fizzling out the oncoming flame. "Second, none of that matters in a sense of maturity. Honestly, how you hold yourself together, you're more mature than I will ever be."

"How?"

"Because you don't let things fester inside of you. You know how to move on and let it go. You're always trying to improve yourself but also the others around you. You know who you are and what you want in life, and that's something some people in their sixties or seventies don't even have a grasp on… to me, that's maturity. You've peaked at self-actualizing."

"Is that a _Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs_ reference?" Blossom teased.

Brick shrugged, "I had AP Psychology my junior year."

Blossom nodded, pursing her lips in consideration before speaking. "Thank you… I really needed that."

"No problem."

"You're mature too, Brick," she said softly.

"No. I'm really not," he muttered.

Brick waited for Blossom to response back, but instead, she changed the topic. As they continued on with a different conversation, Brick could not stop asking himself if he believed her.

If he did have potential. If he was good person. If he was fully matured.

Brick knew the answers were a no.

It was because he was still lost.

He still did not know who he was.

But thanks to Blossom, he may be on the slow path of self discovery.

* * *

"I think we're here," Blossom beamed, pulling over to the side of the road.

Brick raised his eyebrows unimpressed. Outside of the car was a dense pine forest. Other than the trees, there was nothing else in the landscape.

"Are you planning to murder me?" He joked uneasily as Blossom unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car.

"If I was, I would have done it three hours ago instead of wasting half a tank of gas."

"True," Brick nodded, hesitantly undoing his seat belt and exiting the car. The refreshing air of the night sinking deeply into his lungs while he stretched his legs out after being in the small car for too long. Despite the abnormal heat radiating from his body, Brick could tell the climate was much cooler compared to the massive heatwave in Townsville. He glanced at the time on his phone, seeing it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. "So… this is the surprise? A pine forest? We have this in Townsville."

Blossom giggled to herself as she joined his side, her hand entwining with his. "Not everything is what it seems, Brick," She replied, turning her back towards him, leading Brick through the pine forest. "You never seem to get past the surface of things."

Brick opened his mouth to protest but could not due to the accuracy of her statement.

On the surface of his résumé of life, he was a deadbeat loser.

On the surface of his decision-making, he had no future.

On the surface of his late night activities, he was the bad guy and a monster.

On the surface, he and Blossom should not mix together.

Yet, Blossom believed he had potential. A future. She thought he was a good person. From what he could tell, she also wanted more from him.

She was falling for him.

He needed to stop her from doing so. Brick did not want to disappoint her. Nor make Blossom hate him.

However, every chance he got, Brick wanted more from her too. Despite his better judgement, Brick could not deny the his unexplainable pull towards her. It as if he knew her from another life, not realizing he was suppose to be looking for her until the moment she walked into his shop a month ago. Now everything he did, Brick could not stop thinking about her.

As if they were meant to find each other in any given scenario.

"Close your eyes," Blossom advised, tossing her head back towards him. An eager grin spread across her face. Brick did as she ordered, following her blindly. Her hand still guided him through the forest when they stopped. "Okay… open your eyes."

Brick slowly peeled open his eyelids. His ruby-colored eyes peered into the enormous wonder in front of him. He eyed the seemingly endless layering of rocks. The deep chasm below him. How great the depth must be if he fell down. The stream of water rushing on the bottom but it seemed to be microscopic from his view. The millions of stars above him dazzled across his face as he stared with amazement.

"Is this…" His eyes shifted to Blossom. Her hair gently whipping with the evening wind. A kilowatt smile being shared with him and only with him. Her eyes captivated by his shock. "You brought me to the Grand Canyon?"

Blossom nodded, laughing lightly, "I figured you never seen it before."

"I haven't."

"Mission accomplished," she grinned brightly, tugging on his hand again. She brought him to the edge of the cliff, taking a seat on the ground and pulling him down with her, hanging their legs over the edge and taking in the natural phenomenon.

"You've been here before?"

"My mom used to date a congressman who was really into national parks." Blossom shrugged, "It was the best part of their relationship." She lifted her head up at the dark sky above them. "I used to dream about running away to here. I thought I could live in a tent for the rest of my life and rough it out in the forest… I did not factor in how much I enjoy air conditioning and not having to hunt for food."

"You got some imagination, sweetheart," he chuckled.

"Thanks…"

They remained silent. Their focus entirely on the nature in front of them. A cool breeze from underneath was pleasantly hitting them. Brick did not feel much of it while Blossom shivered slightly. She scooted closer to Brick, placing her head on his shoulder. Brick opened his mouth to object but Blossom beat him too it.

"You're so warm," Blossom noted, snuggling her cheek against his shoulder.

Brick gazed at her from the corner of his eye, trailing from his shoulder to their hands, realizing they were still entwine. He smiled softly, "It's because I'm a human furnace."

"Lucky me."

"I suppose."

Blossom chuckled lightly, her thumb stroking against the back of Brick's hand, "Thank you for coming with me… I really needed to get out of town for awhile."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know…" Blossom sighed. Her breath trickled down Brick's arm. "Well, for starters, there's the whole mystery on what happened at the lake. Then my mom is wrapped up in this thing with Bubbles' dad and I'm struggling with figuring out what to do about it."

"Bubbles' dad?" Brick questioned, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion. "Isn't he married to that school teacher?"

"Ms. Keane?"

"Yeah, her."

"He is," Blossom answered quietly. "And my mom is apparently sleeping with him."

"Oh."

"Sorry, I shouldn't be dumping this all on you."

"No, no. It's fine...I just wasn't expected that."

"No one does. Everyone thinks my mom is a super independent career women, which she is but she is also a home wrecker," Blossom confessed, her breathing hitching up when speaking of the truth. A secret she has not revealed to anyone. "That's how she got a start in politics. She was an intern for a Senator before getting romantically involved with him."

"She pulled a _Monica Lewinsky_."

"Yeah," Blossom laughed. "She did. But eventually, it opened doors for her. That's how she got her current job… And I could care less about her promiscuity, it's more about who she is choosing. It's always someone married. Someone she should not mess around with. It always has to be something scandalous for her to take interest… it as if she fetishizes the thought of being caught."

"Or she likes the idea of not getting caught. For having a secret that no one else is in on," Brick suggested. "It's a pure power move."

"Maybe so," she agreed. "Whatever it is, I'm frustrated by her lack of regard to others sometimes… It's for that reason why my dad is not exactly in the picture."

"What do you mean?"

"My dad is the Senator she was interning for. He was already married when he met my mom. They dated for a few months before my mom got pregnant. He paid her off to keep quiet and provided a sizable check every month until I was eighteen. Most of it went to my college fund."

"Wow... That's shitty," Brick mumbled.

"I guess. I mean, I get to see him whenever he comes to Arizona for anything. So it's not like we don't have a relationship… More so, he doesn't pretend I don't exist. He, at least, took accountability for his actions. It's nice… Last time I saw him, we went to New Mexico for the weekend. I tried cactus soup."

"I'm sorry," Brick said after a beat. He needed a moment to fully digest the family secrets she was divulging to him.

"Why?"

"For being put in a shitty position because of your mom."

"Thanks…" she murmured. "I don't think it's that bad but thanks."

"Of course… And I want to say thank you," Brick mumbled. If Blossom's ear was not close to his mouth, she would not have heard him. "No one has done anything for me in a long time…hell, I don't even do anything nice for myself. So yeah. Thank you."

Blossom lifted her head up from his shoulder. Her hand slipping out from his grasp. Instead, she grabbed his chin, turning him to face her, her eyes peering into his.

"There's another thing I've been dealing with."

Brick swallowed nervously. His mind told him to back away. To stand up and walk away from her.

"And what is that?"

"I'm incredibly into you, Brick. It's insane how much I like you. And it's crazy because I thought it would be a long time until I found someone who would ignite any interest in me again after what happened with Henry but I want you," she confessed. Her eyes never breaking away from his face. "But I can't figure out what it is that you want. Sometimes, I think it's mutual. Other times, I feel like I've crossed a line… I just want to know what you want. If it's not me, it's fine. I… I don't know what else to say."

Brick lowered his eyes, analyzing the layering of the chasm below them. Blossom had let go of his chin as he pursed his lips with uncertainty.

"Neither do I," he breathed. Brick heard Blossom sigh. It was not out of frustration or in a tiresome nature. The sigh was more in a rejecting tone. A breath formulated from pure sadness and rejection.

The thing was, Brick did not want to reject her. The feelings were indeed mutual.

However, like he had been telling himself ever since he met her, the feelings could not become into fruition.

Blossom deserved better than him.

She should not be with a loser like him.

"So I guess that gives me the answer I needed," Blossom whispered.

"No… it doesn't."

"Then what does it mean, Brick?" She challenged sorrowfully. "That's not exactly a promising response after opening up to someone."

"That's the thing," Brick pointed out. "I'm not someone to open up to. I'm not good with these types of things. I'm not what you think… Which is why we can't be together," he exhaled. "Even if I wanted us to be."

"I think you're better at it than you think," she remarked, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "You helped me open up about my past. You told me about your time before coming here. You're capable of being more than you think, Brick."

"It doesn't matter," he dismissed, shaking his head. "Either way, I'm never going to be good enough for you. You deserve someone who has a future already. Someone who is not a work in progress… someone that your mom would approve of."

Blossom chuckled lightly, gaining Brick's attention. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as she opened her mouth to speak.

"I already dated someone that my mom would approve of, and look where that got me? Kicked out of MIT and I got manipulated like a child."

"I don't think your mom would have approved of Henry."

"Yeah, she would have. He is exactly what she pictures me to marry," Blossom nodded. "But I don't care because I don't want someone who my mom thinks I should be with. I don't want some shady politician or corporate lawyer. I don't want a man who will exhaust himself in his office work… I want you."

"You don't want to do that to yourself," Brick deflected.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't really know me, Blossom."

"Then let me get to know you, Brick. Can't you see I'm trying? I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to show that you're way more than what you think you are. I don't care about whatever it is that you've done in the past. We've all done things that we regret or wish we could do differently. We're not any different. And you're not the person that you keep trying to make yourself out to be. Your self-loathing just keeps getting in the way. It keeps you from realizing how amazing you actually are. You're a good person. You're a good, hard-working man who cares way too deeply, which is why you don't let anyone get to know you. You're too scared about the pain it will cause when someone, you care a great deal about, leaves. You think you're better off not getting close to anyone and not feeling anything than dealing with any type of heartbreak that comes with the chance of them leaving you."

"I–"

"You know how I know this?" Blossom interrupted. " _Because I care about you_. Because you have opened yourself up a little bit around me. You have given me little sneak peeks of the real man you are." She freed her hand again, cupping it lightly on his cheek. Her thumb stroked the corner of his mouth. "You have a heart of gold, Brick Jojo. It's just been hiding for too long, to where it does not shine as brightly anymore." She slowly leaned closer to him. Their faces were inches apart. "Please don't try to shut me out, Brick."

"I don't want to," he whispered tenderly. His eyes shimmered with longing. "I don't want to be this way but I don't want to hurt you… Nor do I want to fuck things up. I seem to have a knack for doing both and I don't want to be another person who comes into your life and fucks with it. You've been through enough."

"Thank you for the concern," she said softly. Her fingertips brushed against the loose strands of hair from under his hat, focusing her attention on his lips. "I haven't had someone put my feelings first before…"

Brick smiled softly at her, "We care too much about each other, don't we?"

"I think so."

"And only after a month. Everyone must think we're fools."

"They probably do, but I don't care. They wouldn't understand," she murmured. "It's insane but I feel like I've known you for way longer. Like we were together—"

"Another lifetime ago," Brick finished, catching Blossom off guard. Her eyes flickered up to meet his. He grinned at her, nodding to confirm what he said. "At least I know I wasn't making everything up in my head… that feeling, I mean."

"How strange," she replied, pursing her lips in thought.

"Yeah. It is but it did make me want to be around you a lot more, so it's not a bad thing at all."

Blossom smiled warmly at him, "Same for me."

She pressed closer to him. Her nails lightly digging into his scalp as she briefly hesitated from moving forward before getting a swing of courage. Closing her eyes softly, Blossom shrunk the gap between them, meeting his lips.

Brick raised his eyebrows in shock, jerking himself away before anything went further. Blossom swiftly pulled back, straightening out her posture and clearing her throat.

"I—Sorry… I shouldn't have done that," she mumbled, staring down at her feet hanging into the depths of the chasm.

Brick fixated his eyes on her, folding his eyebrows together.

How cruel was this?

To be the person who prevented two souls who wanted nothing more than to be with each other.

Brick knew it was a bad idea. How many times did he have to tell himself? Was it worth the risk?

He knew his "associate" would do anything in his power to destroy Blossom. His "associate" must already know his power over Brick is waning because of her.

Brick no longer felt like the same person he was the day he agreed to everything. He was not a shell anymore. Brick was not simply going along with the motions of the day. Instead, he was making an effort to fix his future. To fix himself.

And it was all because of Blossom.

She woke him up to live again. It was as if he was in a coma for five years too. Now that he was awake, Brick was able to change what he did not like about himself. Like at City Hall, he was able to pick a different path in life.

He wanted to live again. Enjoy the surprises and moments of life.

All Brick wanted was to be happy for once. To experience the emotion that has eluded him for the past twenty-three years.

To stop being bitter and to be kinder to himself. Allow himself to be happy without worrying about what ifs.

He needed to stop being afraid.

Of life.

Of his happiness.

Of love.

And of his "associate".

With that in mind, Brick snapped out of his thoughts. His hand reached out for Blossom, curving his hand over her jawline. He turned her head towards him, his fingers curling into her thick orange hair. He leaned forward, stopping merely centimeters away from her face.

Her eyes danced back up to him, arching an eyebrow. The moonlight was catching her eyelashes, making her stare even more enchanting. "Brick…"

"Yes?" His whispered against her lips.

"Did you change your mind?"

"No. I still think this is a bad idea but..." He paused, tilting his head a slight degree. "I've decided to throw caution to the wind. To hell with it."

Before Blossom could respond, Brick pressed his lips against her's. She expected it to be a feverish, frantic and urgent kiss but it was actually soft. He kissed her with such a tenderness as if he was scared to hurt her.

All his urgentness went into his grip on her jawline. His fingers dug into her hair like talons. A way for him to make sure this was real and not a fantasy conjured up in his head. His hand pulled her closer into him.

Blossom moved her face further, her mouth turning an angle against his, allowing an opening for his tongue. He took in how sweet she tasted, baring a resemblance to honey. Velvety smooth, warm, and enriching but not artificial.

His heart thumped ecstatically against his chest. His body rose in a therapeutic heat, radiating off of his skin.

He felt alive.

He also could not get enough of Blossom. Brick knew there was no way to reverse any of this. He was officially and completely under her spell.

For once, his body was not only warm from his pyrokinesis but from the euphoria coursing through his veins.

It was for those reasons, it pained Brick when he had to pull away to catch his breath. His eyes opened fluidly, meeting Blossom's. A smile spreading across his face as leaned his forehead against her's.

"Hey," he breathed.

"Hey," she smiled softly. She lifted her hand up, tracing around his lips with her thumb. "So what does this mean?"

"I think this means we're dating? Right?" He questioned. "I'm not exactly sure how this works."

"Never been in a relationship?"

"I have but I never cared about them like I care about you… I don't want to screw this up by rushing into things, you know?"

"Me too," Blossom whispered. "We should take things slow then."

"Slow works for me," Brick grinned. "As long as there is a lot more kissing."

"Oh, there definitely will be," she coaxed, leaning in an inch and closing the space between their lips.

* * *

 _July 14th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _2 months ago…_

Once in a blue moon, Brick would come into town for fried chicken at Otto's. It was a tradition he and Mojo established when moving back to Townsville, and the redhead felt it was only justifiable to continued it when the mood struck him.

In a way, it made him feel closer to Mojo and fleshed out former fond memories.

He would go when it neared closing time due not wanting to run into anyone from town. In the crowd of customers during the day, a least a few who peppered in would have the guts to ask him about Mojo's condition.

Tucking the brown paper bag under his arm, Brick exited the diner. The bell chimed above his head as the savory aroma danced freely through the air.

Brick began walking to the parking lot when a ominous breeze whipped the back of his neck. He furrowed his eyebrows as his body's temperature dropped a few degrees. He glanced around the street, searching for anyone who experienced the wind with him to confirm it was not in his head as they were in the beginning of a heatwave.

He did not find another person.

He did find a shadowy figure by the abandoned candy factory. Their wispy hand waving him over.

His name being whispered in his ear repeatedly. The hairs that covered his body rising up as goosebumps ran rapidly over his skin.

Brick felt enchanted. As if a spell had been casted upon him.

His feet slowly moved forward, heading towards the factory. The shadow grinned in more delight.

When the redhead approached the figure, a dark fog circled around them. In a second, they were transported to where city limits almost ended.

Brick furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth agape as he took a step back.

"What are–"

"I'll explain such things later," the figure interjected. Their voice echoed throughout the desert landscape despite it's whispery tone.

"But—"

"From my understandings, you have a love one who is dearly ill, am I right?" Brick clammed up. His mouth shutting tightly and his fists formed into balls. The figure stared at him with amusement. "Touchy subject, I see."

Brick narrowed his eyes at the strange creature in front of him. His right fingers instinctively went to his left arm, pinching his skin roughly, hoping this was all a bizarre dream.

The figure cackled at him. Their laugh resulted in Brick's entire body to tense up.

For the first time in his life, the redhead was willing to admit he was scared shitless.

"This isn't a dream," the figure bellowed. "In fact, you're staring at your future."

"I… you're…"

"Don't flatter yourself. I am not you from the future."

Brick let out a tense sigh of relief before his body tightened up again.

"But here's the thing, you don't have a future. You never will," the figure explained calculatedly. "I've seen it for myself. You're a disappointment. Especially to that love one of your's."

The redhead hung his head low, staring at the worn out boots he wore for work. His chin being lifted up by the figure's shadowy hand. Ruby-colored eyes meeting the captivating black holes for eyes the shadow had.

"However, I can make that all change for you," the figure grinned greedily. "I can make you someone. I can save your pathetic future. But more importantly, I can save your precious love one."

"You… You can?" Brick trembled.

The figure nodded, "Of course, I can." It's face loomed closer to Brick's, "All I need is your loyalty to me."

Brick pursed his lips in thought.

How could he make a deal with the mysterious figure? It seemed as if he was making a deal with the devil.

Perhaps he was.

But then, if he agreed, Mojo would be saved.

It was everything Brick could every want.

After all, Mojo was all Brick had and he was all Mojo had. Saving Mojo would bring both of them the happiness in which has evaded them for a majority of their life's.

Furthermore, with Mojo fluctuating between life and death, what else did Brick have to lose?

The redhead's lip turned upward at the figure, no longer displaying any more fear, "You got yourself a deal."

"Perfect," the figure beamed wickedly. "Now why don't I inform you on what is it exactly that you will be doing for me?"

* * *

 _September 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"And this would be my stop," Brick pointed out as Blossom parked the car in front of his house.

The two stared at the small, one bedroom home, not moving an inch. After watching the sunrise at the Grand Canyon, they came to the conclusion that they had to go back to Townsville, despite their mutual lack of interest in doing so. An unspoken collective thought of wondering what it would be like if they just disappeared together without turning back but they did not vocalize this idea because of the responsibilities tying them to Townsville.

"Is it bad that I don't want you to leave?" Blossom whispered sheepishly.

"Well, I don't want to leave," he smiled, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning his back against the car door. "So no. It's not… but I do have to get to work and I'm sure your mom wasn't too happy to see you didn't come home last night."

"You're right," Blossom sighed, shifting her body towards him. "I'll see you tomorrow for another study session?"

"You bet," he answered, leaning over and meeting her halfway. When their lips met, Blossom gasped against his mouth, her body going still.

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time..._

It was the apocalypse. The sky was wine red and has been for over a week. Townsville was destroyed into ruins, crumbling more and more each day until it would be dust in the desert. Fire trapped in any of the remaining citizens in town. The smoke making the thick, arid air even more dense and unbreathable. The smell of burning flesh and decomposing bodies filled the air, becoming inescapable from being permanently smelt.

Hell has been unearthed.

It seemed to be impossible to reverse. Soon to be spread across the world. Chaos has taken reign.

Fighting against the associates and their hellish leader was a winless effort. Too many casualties in the war they were never going to overcome.

However, Brick could not give up.

He was not going to give up because of her.

Wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt to remove the sweat formulating, Brick peered around the corner from the alleyway him and Blossom were hiding in.

"We have about five minutes before a scout or worst finds us," he whispered quickly, turning back to her, his eyes softening.

Her hair was shorter now. An accident a month ago burned a good amount of her hair before Buttercup trimmed it for her into a stylish bob. Her milky skin acquired a thin grimy layer of ash mixed with dirt, making her complexion have a grayish undertone. The clothing she wore was no better. Holes, burns, and dirt dignified the outfit she has wore for the past four days straight.

He still found her beautiful but Brick was also concerned. Their battle has taken a toll on her, both physically, mentally, and emotionally.

It was having the same effect on him too.

"I wish I could do something," she trembled.

Brick rested his hands on her shoulders, her chin lifting up to met his eyes. "It's fine. You know as soon as you try to stop time or reverse anything, they will know."

"I still wish… If I had been able to do anything, maybe Buttercup would be… or Boomer…" Blossom choked, loose tears streaming down her cheeks. A clear line being drawn on each side of her face as it cleaned off a section of the grime.

"I know," he breathed. "But there's nothing much we can do."

"You're right. There isn't… What else are we supposed to do? Keep running away until one of them kills us? There's no escape."

"Yes, there is. We just have to get you to the lake," he encouraged. "You are the one who can freeze time. You're the only one who can stop this."

"I'm not sure that I can," she confessed in a weak breath.

"You will. Trust me, you can do anything," Brick replied, flashing a tired smile.

"How are… there is no way we can get to lake. That's where…"

He sighed, nodding, "I know."

"What are we going to do?"

Brick peered into her rose-colored eyes. The delicate state she was in, being the only thing readable.

Brick swore to himself when everything began to unravel, he would protect her at whatever the cost may be. He was too focus on her physical safety to even consider her emotional distress.

He was beginning to realize how much he failed her. This was another one of his endless failures. Brick promised to himself that he was never going to hurt her but when he stared into her eyes at this moment, he has caused more damage than he could ever predict.

There was no way to fix this. He could protect her from death for as long as he could but there was no way he could fix the brokenness within her anymore.

The only thing he could consider would help in repairing her, was to save the world…

He urgently pulled her into a kiss, pouring everything within himself into the embrace. They shortly parted, breathing heavily. Blossom's eyes welled up in tears as her mind had a slight indication as to what the kiss meant.

Brick inhaled sharply, his breath trembling as he spoke.

"I wish things would have been different for us. If none of this shit was happening when we met," he trailed off softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Brick, please," she sobbed, unable to contain her tears any longer.

"Go save the world, okay?" He smiled weakly. She nodded, her body shaking violently with disagreement towards his decision. Brick leaned in one more time, pressing his lips against her's softly. His forehead resting against hers when he pulled away, "That's my girl."

He took a step back from her, turning his back towards her and heading into the street before pausing in his tracks. Brick returned to her side, his hand going to his head, lifting his hat up. His hand fumbled slightly as he silently placed it on her head as he would do to himself.

Without a single word exchanged between them, Brick left the alleyway. He scanned the former street containing the pet store Boomer used to work at and the hardware store. No sight of anyone or scouts. Not exactly the response he wanted.

But he did know how to get the one he wanted.

"Hey, Him… I think I'm ready to reconsider my options," he grinned smugly.

Within a few seconds, a smoke cloud circulated around him. A wicked cackle infiltrating the air.

A tall, red-pigmented figure containing claws for hands appeared from thin air. A malleable expression spread across their face.

"I know you would come around," the figure echoed. "It was only a matter of time."

"And the deaths of my friends," he pointed out.

The figure shrugged, circulating around Brick, "I did make it clear to how much of bloodshed was needed for my endeavors." Brick stiffened his body as the figure stood behind him, lifting his chin with one of the claws. "But you forget, none of them were truly your friends. You were meant to be alone, Brick. No one understands you. That's why you belong with me."

"Right…" Brick breathed.

"If it wasn't for that girl, I would have had your full loyalty this whole time. Things would have been so much easier. No resistance to delay my cause…" The figure paused. Their soulless dark eyes narrowed at Brick, taking notice to the surroundings. The hold on Brick's jaw intensified, his breathing becoming short. "Where. Is. The. Girl?"

Brick smiled wryly to himself, "Who knows?"

"What are you planning?" The figure accused, their voice dropping a few octaves to become more intimidating.

"I wouldn't want to spoil anything," Brick chuckled, summing a fire within him. He placed his hand against the figure's claw, burning a hole into their flesh as they withdrew their hand away.

"I am so tired of you screwing up my plans," the figure growled, wincing at the burn they collected. Grey smoke rising up in the air from their claw.

"That's too bad," he grinned, creating a wall of flames around them.

The longer he kept the figure distracted, the more time Blossom had to get to the lake.

Brick prepared himself for a battle, waiting for the figure to attack but instead they stayed still. A slow and gradual cackle escaped from their lips.

"You really think you can stop me? Me?" It badgered excitedly. "I would be offended if I didn't find this to be so amusing." The figure wiped away what Brick supposed was a tear but he was not sure if demons even had the capability to formulate tears. "I suppose this will make things a lot more enjoyable."

Within a motion, the figure had Brick by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up in the air as if he was a trophy.

"Foolish boy," the figure teased. Their voice echoed throughout his skull. "You really think you could have stopped me, didn't you?"

"I can…" Brick swallowed. He was lying to the figure and himself despite accepting the forthcoming conclusion to this interaction. The only end to this was the end of...

"And to think, you had so much promise," it continued. "But I suppose the others will do." A smile eerily spread across their face. "They will fair much better than you. Than your other friends… And much more than the girl."

"Don't you dare," he spat.

The figure chuckled darkly, pulling Brick closer to their face, "You'll always be a mistake. That is what you will be remembered for. Not your failed attempt at heroism."

Brick lowered his eyes, exhaling tiredly. He was unable to deny the truth he knew for himself. "... _I know_."

"All of this for nothing," the figure teased. "And now, I have the pleasure of killing you."

Brick did not attempt to resist the claw piercing through his abdomen. His body being tossed to ground like garbage.

 _As he was_ , he thought briefly.

His eyes stared up at the deep red sky. The same colored fluid pumped out of his body, accumulating into a puddle around him.

The last image running through his mind being the delicate rose-colored eyes he observed merely a few minutes ago before the life fled from his.

* * *

 _September 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Is everything alright?" Brick mumbled against her lips, bring Blossom back to reality. Triggering her to forget about the aching pain she felt in her stomach, feeling as if she was stabbed herself… _again_.

She brought her hand to his cheek, lightly tracing her fingers against his jawline, "With you, yes… but with everything else in my life, no."

"Me too," he chuckled.

Blossom scanned his face for a few seconds, her lips pursing in thought. Her eyebrows folded together. Her mind unable to comprehend what she saw.

Nor did she want to relive it.

The vision did not only confirm her suspicions on Brick's involvement with the night at the lake. He was the pyro. She had held on to her lingering thoughts about the topic since they spent time together in the bed of his truck.

However, the vision also prophesied Brick's demise.

Her chest grew heavy at the thought of Brick's potential sacrifice. A weird swirl of guiltiness infiltrated her conscience.

She knew he would care about her enough to give up his life for her. To protect her without a second thought.

Blossom also knew she would be the cause of his death. He would die thinking he was a failure.

But the fire...

City Hall did not burn down. Her mom was not dead like her vision saw. This truth made Blossom become aware she was truly able to change the future in which she saw. Therefore, with all her might, Blossom was not going to let Brick die.

She would make sure he would live in order to gain the life he deserved.

Blossom bumped her forehead against his. A small smile of her lips as she made the promise to herself.

"Thank you…" she whispered.

Brick arched an eyebrow, "For?"

She shook her head, patting his cheek, "It doesn't matter. "

"Are you sure?"

"I'm Positive."

* * *

Night had fallen.

City Hall was still standing tall.

Soulless eyes glared in outrage at the structure remaining afoot.

It was supposed to be in ruins. Burnt to a crisp. Chaos was suppose to be spreading throughout the town as fear would have built up even more in the townspeople.

Sara Bellum should be dead. Her flesh burned down into ash, unrecognizable to world. A fiery demise she rightfully deserved.

But alas, those plans did not pan out.

City Hall was as stable as it could be. Sara Bellum was typing away on a laptop at her home at the very moment.

A derailed plan.

All because of a girl.

"It seems to me, we have lost one of our colleague for the time being," the figure grimaced.

"Tough break," one of his new associate deadpanned. Their eyebrow arched defiantly.

"What do we do now?" Another asked in between chewing a piece of gum, blowing a bright pink bubble before smacking it back into her mouth.

"Easy," the figure grinned wickedly. "We move into phase two."

"Finally," the original voice smirked. "My time to finally shine."

"What if we get hurt? Or worse, we die?" The gum chewer whined.

"A simple price to pay for the new world."

"I didn't agree to this," they continued to whine. The individual next to them elbowed their ribs roughly.

"Stop being such a little bitch," the individual barked, their eyes darting at the other person who remained. They have not spoken the entire time since they met up with the shadow. "You don't have anything to say?"

"What is there to say?" They questioned smoothly, folding their arms.

"That's a response I like to hear," the original voice replied. "Almost as much as I like taking over the world."


	6. The Fracture

_May 4th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _3 years ago..._

" _Hey Butch… It's me. I, um… I think you were right. Maybe it is best if we pretend nothing happened between us. I just… I don't think I'm capable of being what you want. So yeah. If you're unwilling to be best friends still, I get it. But please know that, you will always be my best friend despite what happens… Alright, I think that's enough cheesiness for today… I hope things will work out and… I'm sorry. Bye_."

Butch could not believe what he was hearing. He must have replayed the voicemail at least twenty more times to digest the sudden one-eighty in less than twenty-four hours. Just an hour ago, Butch believed he and Buttercup were finally on the verge of being together. Now they were suppose to go back to being friends.

How could he go back to being friends after everything?

The position she was putting in him was utterly cruel. To give hope him and then to snatch it away just as soon.

But he could not blame her.

What happened the night before, was a lot to take in and Butch knew Buttercup better than she probably knew herself. He could tell she acted on impulse because she always did when dealing with hard decisions.

He should have predicted this would have happened.

He should have not let himself get caught up in the moment.

He should have not let his emotions consume him.

But even when Butch knew all these things he should have done differently, he would not change a single thing because, for a brief moment, Buttercup felt the same way… Or at least it felt like she did.

So he would go along with her. Pretend nothing happened. He would go back to being just friends with her because there was no other option for him.

Butch knew he had to be stronger than his emotions to ensure he did the right thing like he always does.

* * *

 _September 19th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"I'll have the chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese, a plate full of bacon, umm… Oh! Hash browns, a fruit bowl, sourdough and white toast, biscuits and gravy, and a slice of ham," Butch finished, grinning excitably at his waitress as he handed her the menu to Otto's diner. She stared back at him with a slight degree of terror, confused by the large amount of food he had ordered.

"I'll put those orders in," she said meekly before scurrying back into the kitchen.

"Watching you order now is quite terrifying," Bubbles teased, taking a sip of her orange juice.

"Is it really?" He questioned, glancing around the table of his four friends.

For whatever reason, the stars aligned, allowing for all of them to have the morning free. It was Blossom's idea for them all to gather together, and it was Bubbles who suggested getting breakfast at Otto's.

Across from him, Bubbles sat by the window while Blossom was on the outer edge of the booth. Boomer had to grab a spare chair and placed it at the head of the table instead of sitting in the vinyl leather as the rest of them. Buttercup was beside him, her knee subtle pressing against his leg.

Butch, however, made the subconscious effort to keep a distance from her. He shifted his leg away an inch after a while as he cleared his throat, keeping his eyes focused on Bubbles and Blossom instead.

He could feel her questioning stare burning into the side of his head but he ignored her, listening to his friends' responses.

"I mean, from a waitress' perspective, it is," Bubbles giggled.

"No, it totally is," Boomer replied.

"But it's not that bad. It makes more money for the restaurant," Blossom acknowledged, trying to look on the bright side of things as she always did.

"Ah, you're wrong, Bloss," Butch grinned. "Boogie has a deal with Fuzzy and I. We give him all the bread he needs with no charge, and then we can get all the food we want here."

"Isn't that bad for business?" The redhead asked, her eyebrows folding together when bringing about the question.

Butch shrugged his shoulders, not willing to divulge into the true financial concerns about the bakery. It was a subject Fuzzy and him liked to keep private. Nor did he want the town's people to pity or fluster them. Butch knew how much his dad took pride in their bakery, and Butch was going to do anything to keep his dad happy.

"We're doing fine," he answered, flashing a reassuring smile.

"You're lucky," Boomer snorted, ruffling his long blond hair slightly. "I'm pretty sure the pet store is going to close in a few months."

"Why?" Blossom asked, her voice peaked with genuine concern.

Butch grinned at her tone. That was Blossom. She was genuine about anything and everything she did and Butch had forgotten how much he appreciated it.

"We haven't turned a profit in a good three months," he explained. "I'm surprised it hasn't closed yet, honestly."

"There's got to be something we can do."

"I don't mean to burst your bubble, Blossom. But we have bigger things to worry about at the moment," Buttercup interjected, making her presence known to the table once again.

Butch watched as Blossom deflated like a balloon from realizing Buttercup was correct. He glanced around the table, taking in the sobering expressions on each of his friends' faces.

Ever since the night they returned to the lake, they have all been on edge, puzzled by what they were up against. Troubled by the lack of knowledge they have. Furthermore, they were grave because of a supernatural force was attempting to kill them all.

Boomer's hand went to his neck, tracing his fingers against the light bruises in which lingered on his beige skin. Bubbles stared down at her hands as tiny ice crystals crackled underneath her palms. Her teeth chattered furiously together from, what Butch could only assume, an intense drop in her frigid body temperature.

"I wish we could just _run away_ ," Bubbles murmured.

Butch felt his chest tighten with her words. Memories from the past flashed rapidly through his mind.

Memories in which could not be shared.

Memories in which would change everything in his life if they ever got out.

Memories in which he did not want to escape from anymore like he has done for the past year. Something within him has changed in the last few weeks and it all happened at…

Butch snapped out of his trace when he heard the bell to the diner chime. He turned his neck around, finding Brick at the doorway. The redhead made his way over to their table, his red eyes focused on Blossom mainly, from what Butch interpreted.

"I hate to interrupt," he began.

"You're not," Blossom smiled softly.

Brick returned the expression for a brief second before clearing his throat and addressing the others at the table.

"Have you heard about Elmer yet?"

"The pasty kid who works at the hardware store?" Butch questioned.

The redhead nodded. He paused for a second, reading off of their confused faces, concluding to himself that they had no knowledge of what he spoke of.

He took a sharp inhaled, "He was found unresponsive in an alleyway by the hardware store and was brought in to the hospital last night. Something about carbon monoxide poisoning and other traces of toxic substances found in his system." Brick let out the ragged breath he had kept in, "It's a miracle that he is alive right now but there's still a fifty-fifty chance he wouldn't recover despite the hospital's efforts."

"Oh my…" Bubbles murmured.

"He was in our class," Boomer whispered to Butch, his deep blue eyes glazing over with fear and anxiety.

"I know," Brick nodded solemnly. "But here's the funny thing—"

"How is there something funny about a guy hanging on for his life?" Buttercup snapped. Her stare striking at the redhead venomously.

Butch then realized why she responded in such a way. Her dad died from a freak accident concerning carbon monoxide poisoning. Anything surrounding those words were a touchy subject for her.

"I didn't mean it in that way," Brick said sincerely, putting his hands up to signal no harm.

Buttercup rolled her eyes bitterly, huffing out her frustrations, "Continue."

"Okay. What was _strange_ about all of this," the redhead corrected cautiously. "Is that the Gangreen Gang is claiming responsibility for all of it."

"Wait. What?" Boomer blinked.

"How could they?"

"I don't know, Bubbles," Brick answered. "But they are threatening that it will happen again if who ever burnt down the factory doesn't come forward."

"That fucking pyro," Buttercup grumbled, slamming her fist into the table. The loud clanging of the silverware on the table gained stares from across the restaurant.

"Everything is fine," Butch laughed off casually to dismiss the stares. When they all looked away, he spoke. "I think I know how they were able to do this."

"How?"

"I know somethings about the Gangreen Gang," he confessed. More of his memories buzzed through his mind. These ones, however, were entirely unpleasant while the others were all fond.

All except for one.

Nonetheless, Butch knew quite a lot about the Gangreen Gang. More than any one in Townsville who was not apart of the organization should know.

"Ace is their leader," Butch revealed quietly.

Boomer, Bubbles, and Buttercup stared at him in shock from the knowledge. Brick seemed neutral, as if he already knew. Then Blossom nodded her head, the gears in her mind grinding together in a rapid pace.

"How do you know this?" Buttercup asked harshly. She was obviously hurt by him not sharing this information with her before. Butch did feel a bit guilty but he also did not see any reason why he should have told her in the past. It was never important to him or her until now.

"There's this bar right on the city limits of Citiesville that the Gangreen owns. I used to hang out there sometimes after graduating," He shrugged.

"Ace must have some type of toxic powers," Blossom hypothesized abruptly from the information given by Brick and Butch. Her hand rubbed the short length of her chin. "Toxikinesis is what I believe it is called." Her eyes drifted up to Brick's for a moment, "And if that's the case, we should focus on stopping the Gangreen Gang."

"What about the pyro?" Buttercup scoffed. "Whoever they are, they're causing the same amount of trouble for us."

"And if we find out who they are, we could stop Ace from poisoning anyone else," Boomer finished.

"How can you be so sure Ace wouldn't harm someone again?" Butch acknowledged. "Gangreen Gang members aren't above hurting or even murdering without any given reason."

"Which is why we need to stop them," Blossom replied.

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at Blossom, "The pyro should be our first priority."

"I'm with Blossom," Brick voiced, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "We should stop the Gangreen Gang. Then look for the pyro…"

"We would be putting our lives in danger by going after the Gangreen Gang first," Boomer refuted. "We're saving lives by finding the pyro."

"We could be putting our lives at risk by looking for the pyro," Butch argued. "Who knows how dangerous the person is."

"If Ace has toxic powers, then the only people left with abilities we don't know about, are the punks, Robin, and…" Bubbles' eyes trailed over to the redhead standing at the head of the table. " _Brick_."

"Trust me," Brick said smoothly. "If I had powers, all of you would be the first to know."

"No," Buttercup intersected firmly. Her eyes focused on Blossom. " _She_ would know."

"He hasn't told me anything, Buttercup," Blossom answered neutrally. "And if he did, I would tell you right away."

"Blossom wouldn't lie about this," Butch murmured to the dark-haired girl beside him.

He could tell from Blossom's voice she was telling the truth. And what would she gain from lying? Buttercup's wrath? He knew the redhead would not want to risk being on Buttercup's bad side again after just making up with her.

Buttercup flickered her eyes between the three, sighing loudly when coming up with the decision to drop the subject.

"Fine."

"If it's such a big deal for you, then we should divide and conquer," Blossom considered diplomatically. "You, Boomer, and Bubbles investigate more into the pyro. Brick, Butch, and I do the same but with the Gangreen Gang."

"I dig it," Butch grinned. "I heard there's going to be a punk concert happening at their bar two nights from today. We could use that as our opportunity."

"I would have to close shop early, but let's do it," Brick approved.

Butch nodded as Boomer and Bubbles communicated across the table about their plans for the pyro. He felt a tug on the hem of his shirt, finding Buttercup trying to gain his attention.

Her eyebrows furrowed together as she leaned forward towards him in secrecy. He brushed her hand away, returning it to herself without a second thought but listened attentively to her.

"Keep any eye on those two," Buttercup whispered harshly. "I think they're hiding a lot from us."

Butch darted his eyes between the two redheads, catching a private moment between them. Neither said anything but their eyes said it all. There was tenderness, adoration, and loyalty being communicated to one another.

It was the look of being in love but having to hide the truth of one's feelings. A look meant for their eyes only.

It reminded Butch of him and…

He focused his attention back to Buttercup, inhaling sharply.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

 _September 15th_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _2 year ago…_

There was a bar in Citiesville he frequently visited as of late. Despite being nineteen, Butch was able to drink. This was due to the place being run and owned by members of the Gangreen Gang. They turned a blind eye to any underage drinking while customers did the same to any illegal business deals they might witness.

It was called Taipan after the poisonous snake.

The place was not appealing in any sense. The soles of one's shoes would stick to the ground due to a mixture of spilled alcohol, sweat, and a mild amount of blood on the dirty, dark concrete floors. The bar was made of cheap wood as certain pieces were missing from being wrecked during violent fights. There was also a stench of stale beer, body odor, and a lingering aroma of urine from the filthy bathrooms.

The people were not any better. Most of those who hung out at Taipan, were obviously Gangreen Gang members. The others were women who Butch did not want to judge but could assume their profession based on their appearance or individuals who have been coming to the bar for too long to care about the reckless and damning behavior in the bar so as long as they got a cheap pint of beer.

For those reasons, Butch did not understand why he kept coming here. Every time he stepped foot in the bar, his entire body felt as if it was covered in an invisible filth, festering underneath his skin.

Yet, here he was. Sitting in the same worn out bar stool, a glass of old-fashioned in his hand, watching as the liquid precipitated through the glass as he drowned out all the other noise around him.

It was with all the chaos around him, did Butch find peace in his mind for a few hours. His thoughts not daring to think about _her_ repeatedly like it did when he worked eight hour shifts at the bakery.

He took a sip of his drink bitterly. The alcohol warming his throat and chest as it went down smoothly.

Butch could no longer fool himself. The reason he came to the shitty bar was to escape Buttercup. To escape the repressed feelings he could never seem to move on from. The conflict within himself has slowly been creeping up on him for the past year, finding different ways to inflict new wounds.

When he simply saw her, he could feel the surgical knife slicing through him. When he spoke to her, the agony in his chest swelled up, choking him subtlety. When he saw her with other guys, he shamefully could feel his heart being crushed and stomped on over and over again.

There was no end to these feelings. There was no end to his heartbreak.

At least the alcohol helped calm his mind for a moment, even if it was fleeing.

For another hour or two, he would remain seated, order two more drinks and call it a night, to only repeat the same actions a few days later.

It was pitiful. It was humiliating. It was exhausting.

For him to live this way. For him to run away from something in which seemed innate for him.

To use alcohol as a coping mechanism to an unsolved emotion was becoming unhealthy for him. He needed to move on but every time a girl would approach him, he compared them to her and none of them were Buttercup. He would tend to feel disgusted with himself whenever anything physical happened between him and another girl. The guilty feeling of the sense he was using them was outrageously loud in his mind after hooking up with someone; even if Buttercup was not on his mind, nothing ever felt right to him. It would always feel like a distraction. A brief moment to evade the clash within him.

It did not matter, however. She did not feel the same. She only saw him as a friend. And from what he heard from Bubbles, Buttercup was dating someone from his former school's basketball team.

It was another one of the plentiful relationships Buttercup has had since the day after his junior prom. He knew she was not, but with all the guys that she has gone through in the past year, Butch could not help feeling as if she was rubbing it in his face. Or it was an attempt to lessen his feelings for her. To further the idea of them would never, never, never happen.

Butch took another sip of his drink, this time downing the entire amber-colored liquor. He slammed the glass on the counter, calling over the bartender for another. A few individuals around him looked at him curiously due to the sudden loudness of the glass hitting the stained wood.

He did not care. The brash action was a declaration in his mind.

The declaration of him to finally let Buttercup go. He could not continue to contribute to his own misery.

When the bartender handed Butch a new glass, the dark-haired male saw a particular shade of orange from the corner of his eyes. He turned slightly in his seat, shocked to see Berserk in a booth across the room. Her mouth sipping on glass containing a rose-colored liquid Butch was unfamiliar with. Her hot pink eyes watched him attentively.

As their eyes made contact, it was as if lightning struck between them. Those around them disappeared. The rock music from the seventies playing through the sound system faded in the air to complete silence. Even if Butch wanted to look away, his eyes remained locked on her.

It felt like an outer body experience. His mind playing a trick on him, except it was not. This was happening.

He was sharing a moment with Berserk Sanchez. A girl he has never said more than twenty words to. It was terrifying, confusing, and off-putting.

Why was this happening? And why was it with Berserk of all people?

She must have sensed the questions on his mind as she removed herself from the booth, strutting her way over to him with her glass in hand.

His eyes involuntarily glanced her up and down like it was second nature. Her warm tan skin seemed more like gold in the lighting of the bar as her face was heavily adorned with makeup but not in a bad way. It was more to advance her already captivating features. Her bright orange hair was straightened, falling just above her shoulders. A black mid-length sleeve sweater tucked into a scarlet leather mini-skirt hugged every inch of her curvaceous body. Her red stained lips curved into a devilish smile as she took a seat on the stool next to him.

"Butch…" she purred, resting her chin in her hand. "I haven't seen you around for awhile. Did you dropout?"

"I graduated last year."

He watched her perfectly full and shaped eyebrow rise up for second before going back in place, completing the neutral expression she had.

"And what is it that you're doing with your life now?"

"I work at my dad's bakery," he shrugged despite finding it strange on how she did not know since about the entire town knew he worked full time there since graduating.

"Gross," her plump lips grimaced. "That's way too many calories to even deal with."

"But it sure as hell tastes good," Butch grinned. He watched her, waiting for a small grin or a chuckle at his attempt to be funny but he got nothing in return.

Instead, she narrowed her eyes at him. He noticed her hot pink eyes were surrounded masterfully by a smokey charcoal eyeshadow, amplifying the striking hue of her iris. Below, her cheekbones and cupid's bow were highlighted a shade of champagne. Her lips were not simply one shade of red but a subtle transition from a scarlet on the outer edges of her lips to a softer shade of red to where her lips parted. It was memorizing.

Butch had never realized the amount of details in which could be made with makeup. To be exact, he has never paid any attention to it before. Buttercup, Bubbles, and Blossom barely wore any, which made him more accustomed to the lack of any. But seeing Berserk up close, Butch was in awe.

Her face was a masterpiece. A work of art, in his opinion.

It was no wonder why Buttercup's mom actively fought for Berserk to be hired at her salon to be the makeup artist. The field was obviously one of her expertise.

"I like your makeup," he confessed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before taking a sip of his drink to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

This was utterly strange. What did he want from this conversation? What did she want?

She tilted her head to a degree, inching her stool closer to his. Her right foot rubbing up against his left calf. The action sent chills all over his body, impressed by her forwardness.

"Obviously," she smirked. "I'm the only one in Townsville who actually knows what to do with their face."

"Not even going to be subtle about it?" He chuckled.

"Why should I be? I'm the best. Therefore, I don't need to hide the fact," she answered. Her voice coming out in a husky whisper, bringing out her Spanish accent more. She used her free hand to trace her fingers along his forearm to his shoulder.

"You like yourself a little bit too much, don't you?"

"Is it wrong for me to?"

Butch watched her finger attentively. His eyes fixated on the blood red nail polish on the sharply pointed nails she had.

"No," he answered after a moment, meeting her eyes again.

There was a unknown glimmer in her eyes when he said this. Her lips curved in a genuine smile for a moment too.

He felt it again.

The lightning striking between them. His body was covered in goosebumps from the shock waves.

However, just as fast as lightning can strike, so did the moment.

Berserk retreated back to her shifty expression. Her hand stopped, moving up to his chin. The tip of her nail digging into the skin under his chin.

"Why are you here?" She asked with distrust in her tone. "Shouldn't you be with your little gang of friends?"

"I don't hang out with them that much these days," Butch replied quietly.

"And that's what brings you here?" She paused, leaning more forward towards him. Her eyes seemed to be analyzing him and his soul, he believed.

"Sure."

Berserk chuckled at his response, withdrawing her hand from him. She took a sip from her drink. To Butch, she seemed lost in thought as she stared out to shelves of liquor behind the counter.

"This isn't the type of place to run away from something, Butch."

"I'm not… I'm not running away from anything," he said unconvincingly due to being taken back by her words. How did she…

She turned back towards him again. Her eyes becoming lasers to his. "You're here alone because you're dealing with something that you rather keep private. More than likely, it must be girl troubles because your life is too boring for it to be anything else… unless you're secretly apart of the Gangreen Gang." She took a moment, eyeing him before taking another sip of her drink and speaking again, "But you're too soft for that lifestyle anyways. So it's out of the question. Therefore, it is girl troubles."

Butch narrowed his eyes at her, leaning closer to her. Their forehead meeting each other despite neither of them meaning to commit such a tender gesture. To someone on the outside, they must seem like a couple. However, to them, there was a thick tension in the air.

It was from the mutual secrets they were keeping within themselves.

It was from the outrage Butch had from Berserk being able to read him so quickly with ease.

His eyebrows furrowed with frustration. Her hand found it's place on top of his lap, tracing the inner seam of his jeans. His hands went to her smooth thighs. Her eyelashes fluttered seductively. His fingers pressed into her honey-colored skin.

There was also another layer of tension between them...

"And why are you here?"

"To find something to run away from," she whispered. Her hot breath hitting against his lips. Her free hand snaked around his back, sliding up into his black curls, gripping onto them tightly.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I love destruction, even if it is to myself."

"And you think I will be your answer to that?"

"I'm not sure." Her nails began digging into his scalp. Butch winced a little from the pain of it but also could not deny how much he liked the sensation. "But I do want to find out."

"And how would you being doing that?" He smirked as his fingers pressed more into her skin.

"You have a car?" She asked devilishly. He nodded, returning her wicked expression. "Then lead the way."

He did as such.

They removed their hold on each other, leaving the bar without paying for any of their drinks. Butch made the mental note for the next time he came, he would tip the bartender extra.

Neither of them touched each other as they left. His hand were in the pockets of his jeans. She had one combing through her artificial orange locks and the other holding onto the clutch she had brought to the bar.

They did not speak either. The tension brewing more and more between them as they approached his car. They both entered, taking a seat in the front as Butch turned on the car and drove out of the parking lot.

They drove around for ten minutes before finding a secluded road by Citiesville's airport. He turned off the engine of his car, his hands remaining on the wheel, staring into the dark abyss in front of them. He took in a hard breath. His hands pried away from the steering wheel.

Then he turned to her as she did the same to him. Their bodies angled towards each other.

And they met halfway. Their lips moved with such urgency and a frantic nature. They were breathing each other in, indulging themselves to other's taste.

They swiftly moved to the back of his car. Berserk climbed on top of his lap as he laid down on the car seats. The heat from her thighs warming his torso as she stripped herself from the sweater she wore, revealing a lace maroon bra, and then doing the same to him. Her fingers trailed down his bare stomach. He massaged her hips, biting and pulling on her bottom lip as she unbuckled his belt. Her hands unzipped his jeans before dipping into his pants and boxers. He held her down more tightly, not wanting her to escape from his grasp. She moved the thin fabric of her underwear, taking him inside of her. Her hip moved against him as she dug her nails into his neck as he followed up with her pace. His hands gained a firm hold on her ass cheeks. She continued to kiss him with a certain sharpness, never removing her lips from his.

Neither of them had a single care about the world transpiring around them. They only had a focus on each other and the hot electricity in which coursed through their veins as they touched each other in anyway physically possible.

* * *

When it was all over, they stayed in the back seat of his car. Berserk remained on top of Butch, her head burrowed in the crook of his neck. His hand wrapped around her hip and his lips were stained a slight red. Their skin was sticking together from a layer of sweat. The car smelled of their passion for one another. The windows were tinted with steam from their activities. The world seemed motionless to the both of them as neither wanted to admit they were technically cuddling each other post-sex.

The only thing being said or heard between each other was the quiet murmur of the car radio that Butch had left on.

They stayed like this for what felt like an eternity when Berserk lifted herself up and fiddled with his radio due to being dissatisfied with the latest song on the airwaves. She did not stop until she found a song she deemed acceptable. It was a soft, hypnotic rock record he recognized from the eighties.

He raised an eyebrow at her, chuckling slightly as she returned to the same position from before.

"I thought you were more into punk music," he acknowledged, making it the first time either of them had said anything since leaving the bar.

"And I thought you were too vanilla to fuck me in your car by some sketchy road."

"Touché," Butch smiled in a daze.

That was the only thing they had said to each other for the rest of the night. In another hour, they both would get an uncomfortable sense from "cuddling" for too long and silently decided to leave. Butch would drive back to the bar in order for Berserk to get her motorbike.

Before she exited his car, Berserk opened her clutch, pulling out a deep red lipstick. She grabbed Butch's arm, pressing the tip of her lipstick into his skin as she wrote something out on it before exiting the car without a word.

Butch scanned his forearm, finding she had left him a note of ten scarlet numbers. It was her way of telling him that this was not a one night ordeal.

He grinned at this knowledge, realizing this was the first time he wanted to continue something with someone. That he did not think about Buttercup for better most of the evening after connecting with Berserk. There was no feeling of guilt or disgust for himself, as he felt his interaction with Berserk was oddly genuine. His mind was beginning to wonder where this could lead him.

* * *

 _September 20th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"So what do you think?"

Butch watched as Brick examined the engine of his car. His red eyes focused entirely on the machinery. Butch had brought it to Jojo's Auto Repair after his car started smoking the night before when he got home.

"You were due for an oil change," Brick answered, shutting the front hood.

"Oh, that's not too bad—"

"Six months ago," the redhead finished as he began cleaning his hands. "Your entire engine is shot now. I'm surprised you lasted this long."

"But… How much would a new one cost me?" He asked, distraught by the news. He ran a hand through his hair out of frustration.

"I would have to order one from Phoenix and you have a _Dodge_ , which would make it about…" Brick arched his eyebrow in thought as he calculated the price tag in his mind. "About three thousand dollars. And that is with the friends and family discount."

"Three thousand?" Butch exasperated. "I don't have fucking three thousand dollars."

"With the minimum wage Fuzzy has you on, I figured. Which is why I suggest you should get a new car for the time being. I can see if I can pull some strings to get a cheaper price but it might take me a few months."

"I can't afford a new car, Brick. I'm basically broke–"

"I know," Brick grinned, gesturing across the garage to a tarp covered vehicle. Butch walked over to car, unveiling it to be a old _Mustang_ painted a dark green. "It's the 1992 model. I've working on this baby for about a year now as a passion project. It's pretty much updated on everything," the redhead explained pridefully. "And the oil was changed just a week ago."

"You're really going to let me take your car?"

"It's a car, Butch," Brick shrugged. "It's purpose is to be driven."

"Right," Butch nodded but not particularly interested in their conversation. He stared at his reflection given off from the car's flawless and smooth exterior.

It was masterfully rejuvenated by Brick. Butch wondered how it must have appeared before the redhead got his hands on the vehicle.

The dark-haired male was also in disbelief on how Brick would give away such a beautiful work of craftsmanship without a second thought. The redhead was known to keep a distance and committed a few favors at a minimum to avoid any ideas of close relation.

It was as if Brick was turning over a new leaf.

Butch grinned to himself, figuring out the very reason why the redhead has changed his tune.

"So where's Blossom?" Butch asked mischievously, peering into the office area of the shop but found it to be empty. "Buttercup told me that she's been coming here a lot to help you study."

"She actually had to study herself. She has a physics exam tonight that she's been stressing about all week," the redhead answered nonchalantly.

"Ah." Butch glanced around the shop, leaning against his new car. "You've gotten pretty close with her lately, haven't you?"

He shrugged, putting his rag down on the cart beside him full of tools. "I suppose."

"You know, I've been friends with Blossom since I was eight. Even then, she was one of the nicest people I have ever met. Probably one of the most selfless person too," he smiled fondly. "I remember she helped me study every weekend for three months straight during my senior year to make sure I graduated, and when I tried to repay her by saying she can eat at the bakery for free, she always insists to pay with a tip. She's one of the best people around."

"Yeah, she has provided me with a slight new hope in humanity again."

"Is that all you think about her?"

Brick narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired male, "What are you trying to get out of me, Butch?"

"Nothing," he grinned, putting up his hands innocently. "I just want to know how you feel about her."

"She's an overall good person. That's it," Brick said sharply.

"Come on, man. There's got to be more than that. You don't find her to be attractive at least? And don't you lie to me because I know when you are."

"No, you don't, Butch," Brick said under his breath, going unheard by Butch. The redhead then sighed, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "And I find her to be incredibly attractive. Intelligent. Kind. Charismatic. Generous. Easy to talk to… I could go on," he confessed sheepishly. "But we can't be together."

Butch furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Why is that?"

"Four years may not seem that big of a gap, but when you're nineteen and the other is twenty-three, it is. Plus, her mom would never approve of us being together."

"So?"

"So it wouldn't work out."

"You don't know that if you don't try."

"Trust me, Butch. Somethings are better left untouched," Brick replied. "Therefore, you should stop trying to play matchmaker."

"I was not," Butch refuted, crossing his arms.

"Sure you're not," the redhead chuckled. "Anyway, why are you so invested in my love life when you should be trying to keep a certain relationship of your's a secret?"

Butch froze. His face regressing from a playful grin to a frightened expression. How could Brick…

There was no way Brick knew about Berserk and him, right?

The dark-haired male felt his chest swell up from the thought of her. His lungs were becoming too heavy to breath out of.

His mind was flashing back to her hot pink eyes. Her soft, plump lips. The way her skin glistened like golden honey under the right lighting.

These images were all kept in secrecy in his head. Neither have said anything to anyone about their previous relationship, so there was no way Brick knew about them.

Right?

"What do you mean?" Butch laughed forcibly, doing the same with a smile.

"You and Buttercup?" Brick clued in, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

Butch let out a sigh of relief, "Oh. Right… How did you find out about us?"

"It's the worst kept secret in Townsville," Brick joked. "Beside, Buttercup literally has heart eyes whenever she sees you. It's kind of off putting because, you know, it is Buttercup but yeah."

"Heh. Yup," Butch chuckled off.

He soon changed the conversation swiftly. His body never fully recovered from the tension he felt from thinking about Berserk.

Butch could not deny how much the orange-haired girl has been on his mind lately. Ever since Princess' Labor Day, he has not spent a day without thinking about her. It was in the same fashion he was under when Butch first developed feelings for Buttercup.

With the comparison, Butch knew in his heart and soul what it meant but he could not deal with it. He would not divulge himself in those treacherous emotions.

He had to do the right thing for him. And the right thing for him was to be with Buttercup...

Right?

* * *

 _October 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

Berserk and him have been messing around for two months now. It first started out with him picking her up late at night and going to the same spot they first hooked up at. This would happen every other day despite her having school in the morning since she was a year younger than him. Then they slowly became more comfortable with each other. By the third week, Butch began taking her to his house at night. He tried sneaking her in the first couple of times but was caught by Fuzzy the fourth time. Afterward, Butch did not care about bringing Berserk into his house in secrecy anymore. To Fuzzy's knowledge, she was his girlfriend.

Butch did not want to burst his dad's image of him and simply went along with it. He did not have the heart to tell him that Berserk and him were not dating. That they were mainly fucking around with each other.

But he also did not want to admit the fact out loud. They were not together but Butch did not want to define them simply to being fuck buddies. There was more to them than that. It was an unspoken truth and understanding between them.

An untouchable realm that shall never be discussed because it would make things too complicated for both of them.

However, Butch could not help wondering what it would be like if they did speak about whatever it was that was going on between them, especially right now.

They were on his bed. His sheets were a crumbled up mess on the floor, resulting in them to be unable to cover their naked bodies from each other. They were facing each other on their sides. His right arm was snaked around her, tucked in between her hip and his bed. She had her left hand in his hair, examining his curl ringlets.

In these occasions, it would either last for another thirty minutes before Berserk decided to leave or they would spend the rest of the time talking about anything they could think about. From these conversations, Butch learned a lot more about the punks' friendship, her favorite bands, and her in depth love for makeup. She learned about his struggles in school, his passion for baking, and the history of his friend group.

He told her about the aimless path he has been on since graduating. How Butch felt the need to support his dad in the bakery despite his longing to leave town and start somewhere new. He expressed the inward guilt he has to be constantly there for Fuzzy and to take care of him because Butch and the bakery were all his dad truly had in life. More so, Butch loved his dad too much to leave him, which overruled his own personal wants.

She told him about her aspirations to leave Townsville for California to kick start her own makeup brand. How desperate she was to leave the methodical motions of a day in Townsville.

Both were not shocked by the mutual mentality they had about Townsville as everyone around their age felt the same way.

Although, he was surprised she did open up to him. Butch expected her to be closed off like most individuals from their high school had described her to be; particularly the male population had used those words, upset by her harsh ways of rejecting them. This was a reason why he felt they were more than fuck buddies.

"Why did you come to America?" he asked quietly out of curiosity.

"My parents were involved in some type of money laundering scandal and feared the repercussions. They were also looking for an escape from the corruption of government even though they, themselves, were corrupted to begin with," Berserk shrugged. "A couple of my aunts lived here in America already, so it was an easy decision for them."

"Do you miss being there?"

"Sometimes," she breathed with a heavy heart. "I miss our villa. It was on the side of a mountain, so we owned more land than half of Townsville. I miss wandering around at night and listening to all the sounds from the nature surrounding us. The sense of freedom I had there. As if I was untouchable." She paused, taking in a sharp breath. "But I was only a little girl then. I probably was too naive to all the other things around me."

"You should go back someday."

"Maybe," she smiled softly.

"Did you like coming here?"

She pursed her lips at the question. "No. I thought this place was a shithole. No one spoke the language I spoke. Everyone treated me like I was a foreign object to them. I just wanted nothing more than to go back and live with my grandparents but my parents prevented it from happening... The only bright side of us immigrating was my chance to change my name."

"Wait. Your real name isn't Berserk?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.

"My parents are two traditional Catholics from two wealthy Venezuelan families. You honestly thought they would choose Berserk as their sole child's name?" She questioned sharply.

"It does sound like a fake name," he thought out loud.

Berserk smiled at him, "That it is. I choose it based on one of my favorite songs at the time. Given I was nine when we first moved here despite everyone thinking I came to America before my freshmen year."

"So then what is your real name?"

"Ugh," she grunted, rolling her eyes. "It's terrible."

"I'm sure it not," he chuckled.

"It's Viviana Daniela Sanchez Otero Levarde Ruiz," Berserk revealed in one breath.

The corner of Butch's lip turned upward, "Viviana? I like it." He leaned forward, planting a kiss on her neck. "It got a certain sexiness to it."

"Well I am sexy," she said huskily.

Butch grinned devilishly at her. "That you are," he replied before bringing his lips to hers. The static attraction between them was ever present, drawing him more and more to her with everyday.

When they parted, Butch could not help hiding his bliss state. How much he enjoyed being with her. It made him wonder what it was exactly that prevented them from not being officially together.

"What are you thinking about?" She questioned. Her eyebrows drawn together.

Butch smiled at her, his eyes drinking in her expression. Whenever she was confused, her lips would form into a soft pout, making her lips look fuller than they already were.

Her face was also bare from any makeup, allowing her natural beauty to shine through. Even without the makeup, he found her to be a masterpiece.

It was strange how he never noticed this before. When he was in high school, Butch would see her in the hallways a few times but did not ever think about giving her a second glance.

But then Butch remembered why he would never give any girl a second glance.

He chuckled to himself, realizing this was the first time he has thought about Buttercup in about three weeks.

"A lot of things," he whispered after some time. He pulled her closer to him. Her chest pressed against his.

"Want to clue me in or are you going to make me assume like always?"

Butch raised an eyebrow before sighing. He laid his forehead against hers, taking in her hot pink eyes, "Do you think we should be more? Or are we just fucking to fuck?"

He watched as her eyes darted away to his chest. Her hand went from his hair to cupping his neck.

"I'm not the type of girl you should consider dating."

"And why is that?"

"Because I would ruin you," she answered briskly. Her body rose up from the bed. She swiftly leaned over the edge, reaching for her clothing as a way to escape the conversation.

Butch sat up immediately, gaining a grip on her arm, preventing her from leaving. She whipped her neck around to him, staring coldly at his hand and then meeting his eyes.

" _Stay_."

His single, firm word hung in the air with intensity. Neither moved. Neither knew what to expect next.

She shook her head, "You don't really want me to stay."

"I do."

"No, you don't," she dismissed. "You only think you do because I'm all you can have right now."

"What… what are you implying?" He fumbled.

"You slept with me the first night because you were running away from some other girl," Berserk acknowledged. "And even if you're too good to see it, you're most likely using me to cope with whatever happened."

"That's not true," he argued. "I slept with you because I…"

Berserk arched an eyebrow, waiting for his response. "You what?"

"Because I…" he took a sharp breath, mustering up enough courage to speak despite knowing how it could ruin everything between Berserk and him.

Just like he did with Buttercup.

"It… It's because I like you," Butch answered, melting into her eyes. She stared at him blankly in return. His mind began panicking, realizing the mistake he made in telling her about his emotions. "I get if this was just fucking around for you. I'm sorry for ruining something that should have been so simple."

His words lingered in the air for about two minutes. Her expression never changed in the time span. Butch had finally accepted the fate of their "relationship" when Berserk parted her lips to speak.

"Who is she?"

Butch felt his stomach complete a series of flips and flops. Berserk's electric stare becoming inescapable. He felt as if the walls of his bedroom were caving in on him.

"Buttercup," he revealed quietly. "But what happened between us, was like two years ago."

" _Time doesn't equate to feelings_ ," she said sharply. "You could know someone for a week and be head over heels in love with them more than someone you have been with for three years." Berserk tilted her head. Her eyes sent thunderbolts through Butch's chest, shocking him into a heavy pain. "Same goes for wanting someone despite it being two years later."

"But I don't want her," Butch declared loudly. Berserk widened her eyes at his sudden change in tone. Even Butch was taken back by his answer but he knew it was true. He has not wanted Buttercup since the night at the bar. Instead, he has wanted Berserk for the past two months. "What happened between us, it's completely over. And it's because of you."

"Why?"

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Why what?"

"Why would you want me?" She questioned in a hush tone. "You shouldn't want me."

"And why can't I?"

"Because I'm not them. I'm not like those girls you hang out with. The sweet, kind, selfless type. The one you take home to meet your parents and dream about having a future with. The one who will be able to…" She spoke even lower, withdrawing herself more and more from him. "To be as good as you are. Someone who will care for you like you deserve to be cared for. You should be with someone who matches your heart, and newsflash, mine is thick with black tar while your's is solid gold."

Butch was paralyzed by her words. From the difference of her behavior from how she was in public to how she was with him. She did not have any walls up. Her cockiness washed away when around him. Her cunning nature and rough exterior were torn down. When with him, Berserk allowed her insecurities to shine through.

The interesting fact of it all was, she was only insecure about two things, Butch had determined. She was insecure about him and his interest in her.

It was her strange way of letting him know she had feelings for him too. That she was scared by what she may feel.

That he was what she wanted to run away from.

He let go of her wrist. Instead, Butch moved beside her on the edge of the bed. Her eyes watched him with hesitation and curiosity. He cupped the sides of her face, kissing her furiously. Butch poured his entire soul into the kiss, letting her know just how serious he was about her and them.

When they parted, he bumped his forehead against hers. His thumb stroking the side of her face.

"I want you. I'm not going to be something to run away from. Okay?"

He saw a small glimmer in her eyes. It was the same one he witnessed in the bar two months ago. Her lips curved into a bashfully smile as her arms looped around his neck.

"Okay."

* * *

 _January 18th_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

It was Princess' birthday. Being the only heir to the Morbucks' fortune, meant her father would pull all the stops to make sure his daughter's party was more memorable than the last.

Which mainly translated to showing off their wealth as much as they could.

It also meant the day was basically a holiday for everyone in Townsville. All the townsfolk spent the day preparing for the enormous party which would occur later in the night. They would all dress up and for one night, pretend to be like the Morbucks family.

It would never work out for any one though. They would generally get swept up in the lavish lifestyle. A true calling sign to their lack of experience when dealing with wealth.

Butch, however, did not care for the grandeur of the event. He was more interested in the details of the party. The type of music. The food. The events of the night.

This year, Princess decided on a desert rose theme. Butch had no clue what it was suppose to mean but he was not going to ask anyone.

Her entire mansion was converted to appear as something straight out of the Sahara Desert. Rich colors of deep blue, red, and gold covered every inch of the space. Each food item incorporated roses into it, such as rose-water infused cookies and passion fruit rose petal tea. There was also tall vases full of blush-colored roses brushed with gold glitter in each corner of the large home.

Butch found the party to not be on par with the other birthday celebrations from the years pass but his friends seemed to find it to be impressive. He had came with Bubbles and Boomer, who then met up with Buttercup and Blossom when arriving. The blondes and Blossom instantly began discuss the decor and their opinion about the space as Butch searched around the room for a certain orange-haired Latina to give him an excuse to leave.

"Not impressed, are you?"

Butch snapped his eyes in front of him, finding Buttercup smiling sheepishly at him from the attempt to start a conversation.

Butch shrugged his shoulders, glancing around the crowd of people again. His mind slightly shocked by Buttercup's comment. They have not spoken individually in months, always addressing each other in group settings. It used to drive him nuts from their lack of communication as he would long for it but nowadays, he could go weeks without thinking about Buttercup if she was not brought up to him.

He was officially over her.

"Okay…" she said awkwardly, shifting her standing. "So how have you been? I barely see you around now."

"Working a lot," he answered hastily as his eyes continued to scan the room.

"Funny. I went to the bakery the other day and Fuzzy was the one behind the counter instead of you."

Butch stopped his search, meeting her eyes.

She was wearing a black sweater dress. Her short black hair was curled at the ends. She wore heavy black mascara, giving the illusion of her eyelashes to be longer.

Her green eyes stared at him with a mixture of emotions.

Determination. Timidness. Longing. Dislike.

Open yet closed off at the same time.

Butch arched an eyebrow. His body not responding in any type of way from her gaze. No emotions were stirred within him.

He smiled to himself, "I was probably on break. Did you ask Fuzzy?"

"No…" Butch watched as her face fell for a split second before gaining a neutral expression. "I did not."

"Well there you have it. I'm either at home or working."

"I… Butch," she sighed with a heavy-hearted tone. He watched her in puzzlement but his confusion soon disappeared when a strand of orange hair was caught by the corner of his eyes. He darted attention away from the dark-haired beauty as she droned on to his deaf ears. His vision fell upon Berserk, who was across the room.

She wore a strapless metallic dress stopping mid-thigh. Her eyelids were lined with silver wings as her lips were a wine red. A sleek low ponytail contained her wild shade of hair, allowing her facial features to be more pronounced.

Butch could feel his heart pick up in pace from the sight of her, wishing he was by her side at the moment.

She narrowed her eyes at him from across the room, her arms swiftly plucking a flute of champagne off of a waiter's tray. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her expression but it soon become clear to him why.

It was Buttercup.

"So… I just want to make sure we're good?" Buttercup said, finishing whatever Butch missed.

"Huh?" He said involuntarily before twisted his neck back to focusing on Buttercup. He nodded his head aggressively, taking subtle steps away from her. "Yeah, yeah. We're totally good."

He soon slipped into the crowd, making his way to Berserk. Once in her presence, Butch knew he had to reassure her that nothing occurred between him and Buttercup.

"I swear that was not anything important," he said in a hush tone to ensure no one heard them.

Butch made sure to give a good amount of distance between them as Berserk was still hesitant to everyone knowing about their relationship but she seemed to forget her own idea, taking a step closer to him. Her stiletto clipped hard against the marble tile.

"I trust you," she whispered with a certain huskiness. Her breath just below his ear as she spoke. She lifted her flute of champagne to her mouth, speaking quietly to him, "But I don't trust _her_."

Butch quickly realized Berserk was using her glass as way to point in a direction, finding Buttercup to be on the receiving end. Her green eyes quickly diverted away when he met hers.

"She doesn't matter."

"To you, yes." She took one last sip of her champagne, placing the empty glass on a passing waiter tray. "But I can tell you mean something more to her."

"To Buttercup? Are you crazy?" He exasperated.

Berserk arched an eyebrow, "I'm a girl, Butch. It is easy for me to pick up on when we're interested in someone." She moved an inch closer to him, leaving no space between them. "Besides, I know the exact signs for when we go into territorial bitch mode." Her hot pink eyes went back to Buttercup, her mouth hovering right by his ear. "She keeps look over here but mainly towards me. Her eyes are twisted up in an envious expression but also wrath and a sprinkles of sadness. She is probably picturing of ways to murder me—which she'll never go through with because she's a softy." Her hand went to his tie, smoothing it out for him. The blood red color of her nails contrasted sharply against his emerald green tie. Her eyes inspected each and every detail of the fabric as she continued, "She is also tapping her foot repeatedly, meaning she has the brilliant idea of storming over her to ask you what is going on, the very second I decide to leave."

Butch blinked back at Berserk's logic, finding himself completely and utterly shocked by it. Buttercup was into him? After all this time, she decided to have feelings for him? Butch would be lying if he said he was not pissed off by the fact. To end things between them and then parade around with a string of different guys, only for her to catch feelings when he has finally moved on?

He rolled his eyes after sometime, finding it to be her loss. If she wanted him, she should have she said something sooner.

"How unfortunate," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.

"Do I sense a degree of attitude from you?" Berserk grinned with amusement. Her eyes shifted slyly.

"It's possible."

He saw her eyes glimmered at his response. Her lips curved into a small smile. A secretive smile. One he was only allowed to witness.

"Can I tell you how sexy you are to me right now?" She whispered seductively.

"I thought I was always sexy to you?" He grinned devilishly.

"You are," she agreed smoothly, her nails pinching at the knot of his tie. Her hot pink eyes ran up to meet his dark green gaze. She tilted her head to a degree. The lighting of the room catching the white highlighter on her cheekbones, making her seem otherworldly. Her breath came out in a short-pitched. "God. What have you done to me?" Berserk murmured.

"I think a better question would be what _haven't_ I done to you?" He teased quietly.

"That's not…" She sighed, taking a step away from him. Her vision shifted to the corner of her eye and then back to him. "Your friends are coming over here."

"So?"

"I have to leave."

"We could leave together?" he suggested hopefully.

He could see how a part of her wanted to say no. To cut off whatever she felt for him but the other side won. The side in which cared way too much about him.

"Meet me by the gazebo outside in thirty minutes," she whispered before turning on her heel and quickly becoming any other person in the crowd.

Butch stood frozen, collecting his thoughts to formulate a good excuse to leave the party early as his group of friends approached him. Blossom and Bubbles informed him about the petting zoo outside by the greenhouse while Boomer asked if Butch wanted to join him to get something to eat in the kitchen. Buttercup remained silent, standing at the edge of the semi-circle formed around him. Her shoulders tense and arms folded as she looked anywhere but at him.

Butch ignored this action, opting to go with Boomer to get food. The blond spoke to him about a subject but Butch was not receptive due to thinking about meeting with Berserk in a few minutes.

Upon entering the kitchen, an individual clipped their shoulder against Butch's. The dark-haired male almost retaliated but closed his mouth once seeing it was Ace who did it.

From his various time spent at the Taipan, Butch knew this was a way to gain the attention of those who a Gangreen Gang member held grievances against.

To those around him, this may have seen as a simple shoulder bump. A rude accident made by Ace, but Butch knew the lanky male's secret.

No one at this party knew the truth of Ace being the leader of the gang quietly wreaking havoc on the town. They were unaware of how much they should fear Ace and all the power he had over them at only eighteen years of age.

And with the shoulder bump, Butch knew he was on Ace's shit list for whatever reason it could be.

"Did he even apologize?" Boomer asked with annoyance.

Butch arched an eyebrow, staring down Ace the entire time as the lanky male did the same across the room. A dangerous smirk spread across his thin lips. His intent hidden by the dark pair of shades he wore.

"No," he said shortly, running a hand through his hair. Butch sucked in a tight breath, knowing he needed to speak to Ace before things got out of hand. He took a step away from his blond friend, only giving him an acknowledgement to why with a quick glance over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a minute."

Butch approached Ace cautiously, his fists balling up out of self-defense. His fingernails dug into the palm of his hands as he spoke to the gang leader.

"Is there a problem?" Butch said neutrally, attempting to appear aloof at best.

"Butch…" Ace grinned wickedly, leaning forward. His shades dipped down to the tip of his nose, allowing Butch to view into his pitch black eyes. "I've been hearing these damaging rumors about you lately."

Butch furrowed his eyebrows, "And?"

Ace chuckled at his confusion as he snapped his finger. Within an instant, one of his lackeys–Snake was what Butch believed they called him–placed a glass of whiskey in his leader's hand before disappearing into the background. He watched as Ace took a smooth sip of the dark liquor. Once satisfied, he furthered his conversation with Butch.

"I know about how much you used to frequented the Taipan in the past despite having no association within the Gangreen Gang." Butch observed how Ace's eyes seemed to grow darker as he continued. The lanky male's grip on the short glass in his hand tightening. "That was true, until you started fucking Berserk, of course."

Butch widened his eyes for a brief second before becoming ripened with fury at Ace for having a derogatory tone when mentioning Berserk. His nails pressed deeper into his skin, inciting signals of pain coursing through his hand to his arm.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Butch retorted venomously, narrowing his green eyes at Ace.

Ace returned the expression, taking a step closer to Butch as a way to size up to him. Butch chuckled at the comparison since he was six foot-five and Ace was barely five foot-ten. Not to mention, Butch held much more muscle mass than Ace could ever fathom.

However, this seemed to go over the lanky male's head as he puffed his chest out to create a sense of intimidation. Butch neglected to fall suit, crossing his arms in amusement instead.

"Let me give you a history lesson, Butch," Ace hissed, cocking his head to a degree. "The Gangreen Gang didn't start here in Townsville. We were formed in Latin America by a man named Ricardo Sanchez Levarde Ruiz in the 1940's." Butch's eyebrows shot up at the name. His mind making the connection but choose to deny the possibility for the time being. Ace smirked at Butch's telling sign, continuing, "The gang expanded in 70's, ruling the streets in Mexico, Honduras, but mainly, Venezuela."

With mention of the country, Butch's shoulders slumped down in defeat. His hands falling to his sides after being blindsided by what Ace was saying.

Berserk was related to the founder of the Gangreen Gang. It left him to only make the assumption she was involved in the illegal activity of the gang. She could have a hand in the drug trade, the prostitution, the murders; who knows what could have her fingerprints on?

It was an assumption he did not want to make. Butch wanted to see the good in Berserk. He wanted to believe she was not a wicked person capable of pulling off the actions a Gangreen Gang member could do.

However, deep down, Butch knew she had enough darkness in her to do so. It actually would not surprise him if Berserk was the real leader of the Gangreen Gang and not Ace. It was a scary thought not to know the truth about his girlfriend but it was not scarier than him not being unsettled by it. It was terrifying for him to be okay with the possibility of her being a gang leader.

To Butch, he was not sure if that meant a lot about his character or if it spoke loudly about how he felt about Berserk. Maybe it was both. It was a strange, conflicting situation to be in. A battle between what was right and wrong commencing within him.

Nonetheless, Butch had to keep himself in check since he was still in Ace's presence. He held a neutral expression, attempting to appear confused as to why Ace was bringing up the origins of the Gangreen Gang.

"I don't understand what this has to do with anything."

Ace rolled his eyes, rolling up the sleeves of his leather jacket. "Ricardo was Berserk's great-uncle. Her father's family made their fortune from the gang. She has our legacy in her blood and Berserk knows this. And despite her protests, she is an honorary member of the gang. That's why she used to be a staple at Taipan." He lifted his sharp chin, staring at Butch in disgust. "Until she started fucking you. Now she is never around."

"I don't—"

"Cut the innocent bullshit, Lumpkins. I have eyes and ears all over this town. Even if I didn't want to know something, I will know about it. I know you've been fucking her since October," Ace accused. "I also know you've made her weak."

Butch snorted at Ace's remark, finally allowing himself to express his frustrations over Ace's ill attitude towards him and Berserk. "And that's your problem here? That she finally has someone she can be vulnerable with?"

"No," Ace answered darkly. "I'm sure you weren't aware because you're an outsider but as members of the Gangreen Gang, we all have an understanding, and it has been a long known understanding that Berserk is to be with me."

Butch arched an eyebrow, laughing obnoxiously at the lanky male's revelation. "You can't be serious?"

"I am."

"Well that's too bad," Butch remarked. He ran a hand through his hair. His laughter continuing on for a moment. "Because I could care less about some 'understanding' since Berserk isn't anyone's property or anything. She can be with whoever she wants, and unfortunately in your case, she doesn't give a shit about you." Butch rolled his shoulders, continuing to boast to Ace. "I mean, you could ask her who she would pick between the two of us but I don't think you're the type to cope well with rejection."

"And neither are you," Ace stated smugly.

"What is that suppose to mean?" Butch questioned, narrowing his eyes sharply. "Berserk has never rejected me."

"I'm not talking about Berserk."

Butch exhaled loudly when he realized what Ace was truly speaking about.

"And what? Let me guess, you're going to try blackmail me to end things with Berserk so Buttercup doesn't find out?"

"Well I…" Ace froze, shocked by Butch's ability to pick up on his plan so easily.

Butch rolled his eyes, "Here's the thing Ace. You can go ahead and tell her because I don't give a shit if you tell Buttercup. I rather be with Berserk than having to keep peace with Buttercup. That bridge burnt down a long time ago and I have clearly moved on." He matched up to Ace's stance, towering over his thin frame. Butch smirked as he saw Ace slightly cower away from him. "And I suggest you do the same or I'll make sure of it," Butch finished menacingly. He stepped away from gang leader, ending the conversation with no further thoughts of returning to it.

As Butch scanned over the party, he found his friends were nowhere to be found. He also found that he did not care about finding them. Instead he went outside and headed towards the gazebo, deciding he rather wait for Berserk to show up than straggle around the party for another couple of minutes.

The gazebo on Morbucks Manor was not incorporated into the night's festivities, which meant it would be unoccupied. It was located on the most western point of the mansion, surrounded by a rose garden. To access the gazebo, Butch would have to cross over a small wooden bridge built over a moat filtered with artificial blue water.

With it being a full moon, Butch had his path guided by the silver lighting. As he approached the bridge, he was surprised to find Berserk was already at the gazebo. Her back towards him as she leaned against the railing, her eyes focused on the celestial objects in the night sky.

"Hey," He said gently, finding a spot next to her by the railing.

Butch pressed his right side into the white-stained wood, his gaze becoming captivated by Berserk's appearance in the moonlight. He, especially, appreciated how the lighting softened her. There was a sort of an angelic tone to her, which was a pleasant surprise since her personal style could be interpreted to represent anything that was associate with sins.

Despite this, she was heavenly to him without the moonlight giving her the effect to appear so.

When she turned to him, Butch noticed how her body immediately stiffened up. It was a clue to him that she was going to attempt to shut him out as this was her usual sign before the fact.

"Hey…" she breathed.

They did not say anything. They only stared into each other's eyes, allowing the other to dive into their soul. There was a strong sense of intimacy from neither of them saying a word. It spoke louder to Butch than communicating. He could easily see what was on her mind.

Butch knew the exact reason why she was trying to shut him out. The reason why she was attempting to run away from him.

She was the first to break, taking in a deep breath before doing so. Her hand went to the hair tie taming her hair. She jerked it out, freeing her orange locks to frame her face like curtains. It was a way to hide from him as she could not find another way to do so.

"Butch… I don't really know how to say this. I never thought I would ever be able to and…" He watched as she hugged herself, sinking into the shell no one else but him would ever know she had. She studied him cautiously. Her hot pink eyes grew tender when meeting his emerald eyes. "I'm so terrified by whatever it is that I… That I…"

Butch took a step forward. His hand went to her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. He then cupped her chin, lifting it an angle upward for him to speak to her more directly.

" _I love you too_ ," he said sincerely.

He heard her breathing hitch in her throat. Her eyes fell down to his chest as she spoke gently to him.

"But do you…" She inhaled sharply, forcing herself to say the word. "Do you just _love_ me because of my body and what we do? I genuinely want you but I just have this nagging voice telling me it's too good to be true. That you're too good to be true. How all I'm good for, is to be a body for you until you…" Her voice grew raggedy as she continued on, "Until you wake up and decide to leave me for someone more appropriate for you. That there's no fucking way you would ever love me for who I am."

Butch leaned forward, laying his forehead against hers. The moonlight caught her mascara-covered eyelashes as she stared wearily into his eyes. He cupped the other side of her face.

"I love you because of your no-bullshit-attitude. I love you because you're confident in who you are without any apologizes. I love you because of how passionate you are about your interests and that you have set goals for yourself based around them because you know it will make you happy in life. I love you because even if you're scared, you're opening yourself up to me. I love you because you've changed my life for the better. I love you because every time I see you, I feel as if I have been struck by lightning but in a good way..." Butch whispered tenderly, smiling softly. "I'm so overwhelmed by how strongly I feel about you, Viviana... Yes. I do love how gorgeous you are. And yes, I think we have mind-blowing sex in which I thoroughly enjoy but those are just bonuses to me because I'm in love with you as a person. Which is why I don't care if you're not what people expect for me to be with. I love you and that's all that matters to me."

He could see Berserk tried to mask the smile from formulating on her face. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, preventing it from happening. Her hands ran up his arms to his shoulders and then going down to his chest to lay to rest. Her eyes gazed over with a slight dew.

"There's something I have to tell you though," she murmured. "It might change how you feel about me."

"Try me."

"It's about the Gangreen Gang—"

"I already know," Butch interjected gently with a grin. Berserk arched an eyebrow as he filled in the gap. "Ace told me about it a few minutes ago."

"Oh." She took in a deep breath. "And that didn't change anything for you?"

"As crazy as it is, it did not."

Berserk chuckled slightly at his reply. She allowed the smile to naturally form on her face now. The special glimmer in her eyes becoming a supernova before him.

"Then can I get a redo?"

"Of course."

She filled in the small space separating them, smushing their bodies together. The moon danced off her hot pink eyes. Her skin illuminated under the silver glow above them.

With all the beauty around them, they were only memorized by each other, lost in the intimate and raw moment between them.

"I love you," she whispered. Her breath hitting against his lips as she said those three words.

Butch closed the gap between them, kissing her softly with indulgence. His body grew warm from the electricity traveling throughout him.

They parted, breathlessly and grinning with childlike glee.

He whispered against her lips before pulling her into another consuming kiss. His four words hung in the air with a sense of comfort and affection surrounding them.

" _I love you too_."

* * *

 _March 29th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago..._

Butch contemplated on which floral arrangement to pick. Both bouquets of flowers were gorgeous but he was not sure which one would impress Berserk the most. He was stuck deciding between a burgundy shade of roses or a bright arrangement of daffodils that he wanted to bring on a special date he was planning for Berserk in a way to congratulate her for being promoted to assistant manager at Sedusa's salon.

After sometime, he finally decided on the burgundy roses because he felt it fit Berserk's personality more. Delicate, enchanting, and strangely sweet yet there was a certain darkness to them. Not to mention, the thorny stems of roses also added another layer to the comparison.

Once he paid, Butch headed for his car parked at the end of the street. He flashed a friendly smile at the townsfolk who passed by him, enjoying the day and the anticipation for what could happen later.

It was when his eyes landed on her, did his mind swiftly change.

She leaned against his car. Her pose so casual. So nonchalant. As if she belonged there. As if it was her car despite the fact she has failed her driver's test three times by now.

It seemed as if they were still good friends, ignoring the fact they have not spoken nor seen each other since Princess' birthday party.

"Buttercup," he said uneasily as he unlocked his car. "What's up?"

"It's been four years," she answered softly.

It was with those four words did Butch actually look at her.

Her eyes were stained a bright red. Cheeks covered with sticky tears. Her dark hair a bit tousled.

The effect of her father's passing still lingered on even after all this time.

Butch had been too caught up in his own life to remember the impending date and the vow he made a few years back.

After the first anniversary, Butch had promised to Buttercup that he would always be by her side during the day to make sure nothing bad happened to her. Even after his junior prom, he was still there for the third anniversary and spent the day attempting to cheer her up with sneaking into various movies at the movie theater in Citiesville.

"Buttercup…" he mumbled, becoming speechless at his lapse in memory.

"I know things have been shitty between us lately, but I was just wondering if…"

"Of course," Butch answered without a second thought. He placed the roses on the hood of his car, pulling out his phone from his pocket. "I just have a phone call to make."

Calling Berserk was way more difficult than he thought it would be. He did not want to disappoint her after promising a spectacular night. His chest ached from the guilt he felt as he dialed in her number.

" _Hey baby_ ," She greeted, picking up on the second ring. " _I was actually just thinking about you. Do you think it would be too much if I wore my purple dress tonight? The one with the criss-cross back?_ "

Butch inhaled sharply, becoming more emerged in his guilt but he had to push through it because he had to do the right thing instead of the selfish thing. He made a promise to Buttercup that he was going to keep. He was not go to abandon her on the day she needed someone the most. Furthermore, he was not going to leave her when she actively sought him out despite the distance he has created.

"Actually, I hate to do this, but there's been a change of plans," Butch replied solemnly. "Something came up and I'll explain it later but I—"

"Butch, is it okay if I wait in your car?" Buttercup asked loudly, wiping her eye with the sleeve of her shirt.

He cringed from the loudness of her voice, fully knowing Berserk heard her through his phone. Butch nodded to Buttercup quickly, focusing his attention back to the phone conversation.

" _Change of plans, huh_?" She scoffed sharply.

"Viviana, please."

" _It's fine, Butch_."

Butch let out a uneasy breath. He knew she was not fine with what was happening without having the context to it.

"I'm sorry, it's just it's the—"

" _I have to go. I'll talk to you later._ "

"Oh. Okay… I love you?"

He heard her hesitate, adding a prolonged pause to the conversation. And then after a minute of silence, quietly and swiftly, she ended with, " _I love you too_ ," before hanging up the phone.

Butch exhaled the tight breath he held in for the betterment of the conversation, hoping this would not get him in any trouble. Hoping he was doing the right thing for everyone, but knowing this was not the right decision for himself.

* * *

 _April 2nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

 _It's over._

He did not know how to process the past five hours. It was such a sudden but everlasting and sharp pain from only two words.

And it was through text message.

Butch could not believe Berserk would break up with him out of the blue and through text message.

Not to be over dramatic but Butch felt as if his life has been turned upside down. How could he have felt so sure about him and Berserk, and then for them to break up out of nowhere.

His mind raced with ideas of what could have caused her to make this decision but only one stood out.

It was him deciding to be there for Buttercup.

Butch knew Berserk has always been insecure towards whether his interest in her was genuine. To think he had chosen Buttercup over her must have influenced her decision. It was her running away from what she thought was the inevitable.

She was frightened by the idea of him leaving her for Buttercup and must have figured it was in the works.

Butch wanted to tell her it was not the truth. That he was set on her and not Buttercup but he knew Berserk would not listen. Her stubbornness was one trait he loved and loathed dearly about her.

Instead, he wanted to find a way to cope with his heartbreak. His mind went to visiting the Taipan but it would only make him think about her more. In fact, Butch could not think of anywhere in Townsville that did not have her touch on it. His bedroom was suppose to be his sacred space but now was tainted by his time with her, becoming unbearable to him. Each street, each store, he had a memory associated her. Even if he went out to Citiesville, there was no escape.

As he tried to think of a place to where he could be left alone, Butch realized he could not find such peace if he stayed in Townsville. He had to leave to be free.

The problem was, he did not have any money to simply up and leave.

His mind flashed back to the various recruitment meetings he had back in high school. When his grades were not too hot and the school did not want him to become a high school dropout, they kept scheduling conversations with him and army recruiters. Each tried to sway him into fighting for his country.

Butch knew he was being irrational for wanting to join the military because of girl but as he thought about it more and more, the idea of finally leaving Townsville sounded incredibly appealing. He needed time to himself. He needed to do this for himself.

His only concern went to Fuzzy but Butch knew that once he approached his dad about the subject, Fuzzy would immediately convince him to go.

Which was why, by the next morning, he had scheduled a meeting with a navy recruiter. His mind already set on leaving Townsville once and for all.

* * *

 _May 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

He stared at her, confused by the way she stormed into the bakery on the night she should be at prom. Her face was contoured in such fury and pain, it was hard for him to keep eye contact.

Butch figured out what this must be about. She had hit her breaking point. Buttercup was about to confess her feelings to him like he had done two years beforehand. This time, however, Butch felt an enormous amount of guilt. His mind believed he has lead her on despite not having any contact with her for months at a time.

He was clouded by confusion as to what he was going to say to her. To go along with it because it was easier than confessing he was in love with someone else or to break her heart in a more harsher way than she did to him.

"You fucking made me fall in love with you, Butch," Buttercup huffed. "Ever since that night, I cannot get you out of my fucking head. I get this fucking weird giddiness when I'm around you now. Every time I try to date someone else, you're in the back of mind, ruining everything. For fuck's sake, I'm here instead of my senior prom because I wanted you to be there. I wanted you to be my date… I wanted to go home with you, Butch."

His stare fell to his shoes. "I wasn't the one who made the decision, Buttercup," he mumbled, attempting to divert any other confession of feelings because he was not sure how he felt about Buttercup anymore.

He was no longer bounded to Berserk, yet Butch knew he should not jump into a relationship when he was not over Berserk. But then there was the fact of how much he wanted to know if he was correct about Buttercup all those years ago. If Berserk was a simply a fork in the road to get him through a period of his life. However, Butch knew none of this mattered because he was leaving soon.

"Yes, I know and I've been regretting it ever since. Perhaps I waited too long. Maybe you're over me after everything and I don't blame you. I just… I can't shake the feeling that we're supposed to be together. I mean, we lost our virginities to each other. You're the first person I told about my dad. You've always been there for me even at my lowest—You're actually the one who saved me from the downward spiral I was going through my freshmen year. It all makes sense to me in this weird fucking way… You're my rock, Butch."

"Buttercup…"

She took a step closer to him. Her eyes conveyed the deep love she had for him. It was strange for him to see someone other than Berserk look at him in this way, especially for it to be Buttercup. "Just tell me that you don't feel the same way anymore," she whispered.

His mind battled over whether he should take a step back from her or stay in the close proximity to her. He was definitely leading her on at this point. Yet he could not deny the tiny seeds of former feelings sprouting up again within him, returning from the dead.

A long decayed emotion coming back to him, reminding him why he fell in love with Buttercup in the first place.

"I can't," Butch murmured, against her lips. His hands snaked their way onto her hips. His mind screamed Berserk's name to him repeatedly but he knew this was easier. It may be wrong for him to flip back to Buttercup but no one else knew he was. Only Berserk would. His chest tightened at the realization he was committing her deepest fear but his mind justified it by telling him that none of this would have happened if she did not break up with him. "I'm still in love with you."

"Then what's the problem?"

Butch exhaled deeply, pulling away from her. He ran a hand through his hair, not meeting her eyes as he spoke, "You were right. You waited too long."

"You're fucking someone else?" She retorted, clutching her fists.

Hot pink eyes flashed through his mind. Her electric stare judged him harshly because of his lying. He knew she would be disappointed by his golden heart being tarnished so easily by himself.

"No," Butch replied quickly. Panic pulsated through his veins but Buttercup did not read it off his face. "I'm actually… I enlisted in the Navy, Buttercup. I'm leaving on June 28th."

He watched she reacted as if he betrayed her. _If only she knew the real truth_ , Butch thought. She quickly left the bakery afterward, appearing as if she was about to cry.

Butch should have ran after her. He should have told her the whole truth. His mind stuck between what was right, wrong, and what he wanted.

Never in his life has he ever been so confused. Why did he let Buttercup in so easily despite still being in love with Berserk? Why did he say he was in love with Buttercup?

Who did he really love?

* * *

 _September 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _3 weeks ago..._

The Morbucks' Labor Day party was way more boring than he expected. Perhaps the reason he felt that was because he had to look out for people from the lake.

Or it was because he was too busy stuffing his face in with various food items that the kitchen had to offer.

Butch excitably approached each station with a new plate, filling it to the max. He could not believe his only enjoyment from a Morbucks' party would be their food service but he did not care. His mind and stomach told him to continue eating, so he did.

He continued this, looking up after finishing a plate in an average of fifteen minutes to see if any of the punks, Robin, or Ace showed their face. It was an hour into his shift when his phone buzzed in his pocket, alerting him of Bubbles declaring a meet up.

Butch groaned slightly to himself, realizing this meant he had to leave all of the delicious foods. He reluctantly threw away his empty plate, accepting his commitment to the group to be more important than food. That was, until he spotted a platter full of jumbo shrimp, initiating his stomach to growl at the sight.

He figured he could be a minute late.

Butch swiftly looked through the Morbucks' pantry, finding a plastic baggy to put the shrimp in. When he turned around and started bagging the shrimp, Butch checked around to make sure no one was watching him.

That was when his eyes met hers.

It must have been an accident on both parts. She was walking through the kitchen and he was playing lookout for himself. But both could not take their eyes away from each other when they did.

Lightning had struck between them again. Hitting them with such velocity, acting as a punch to the gut. Leaving both of them winded in shock.

She froze mid-step. Her face reading off the uncertainty she felt from the situation. Butch quickly closed the plastic bag full of shrimp, making the risky decision to approach her.

His eyes ingested her appearance as he hesitantly made his way towards her. She wore a skintight, silky red dress with a silt down her right leg. The thin straps of the dress hung perfectly off her golden-toned shoulders. Her orange hair was tossed up in a elegant messy bun, shaping her heart-shaped face flawlessly. She wore a scarlet shade of lipstick as her face gave off a dewy glow.

Her lipstick color was the same she used to write her number down on his arm two years ago.

"Hey," he breathed, taking notice to her body language. Her arms were folded, eyebrows drawn together, and her right high heel was tapping slightly against the marble tiling of the kitchen.

She was being standoffish. She was going to shut down this conversation very quickly, he figured. But Butch wanted to see if Berserk could have a change of heart after all the time that has passed.

"Hi," she answered with a chilling tone.

"How are things?"

"Fine." Berserk angled her head to a degree, a ferocious gleam in her eyes as she sized him up. She parted her lips, appearing to want to say something but decided against it. Instead, she stepped to the side, moving past him.

Butch, in a reflex, reached out for her hand, stopping her. Both were stunned by his action. Both were caught off guard by the feverish heat running through them from his touch against her skin.

Berserk withdrew her hand from him, eyeing around the kitchen. She jabbed her blood red nails into his chest. Her eyes glared at him with outrage.

"You shouldn't be doing that," Berserk muttered venomously under her breath, making sure he was the only one to hear her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, combing the same hand through his shorten hair. "It's just… Can we talk?"

"About what? There isn't anything to talk about," she snapped quietly. "You made your decision."

"Because you already did for me," he defended, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Like it would have made any difference," Berserk scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"It…" Butch downcasted his eyes to the pair of black _Vans_ he wore for a second before meeting hers again. "Maybe it could have."

"I don't believe you."

Butch knew she was lying. He spotted the small glimmer in her eyes. The glimmer he has now figured out was the tiny amount of hope Berserk secretly carried within her. The tiny amount of tenderness, love, and kindness she hide away from the world. It was how he knew that she regretted her decision to break up with him.

But he did not know how to feel about it. His mind was telling him to leave because of Buttercup. It continuous reminded him of his love for Buttercup. Yet, his heart was secretly yearning for the electric connection he had with Berserk.

The connection he believed died a long time ago. After all, he has been with the love of his life for over a year now. So why did he feel a type of way about Berserk still?

"Look. I just don't want you to hate me," he pleaded sincerely.

"That's too bad," she answered sharply, turning on her heel and taking a step away from him.

"Berserk."

She kept moving away from him. Berserk knew he was following after her, hearing his heavy footsteps behind her.

"Berserk."

She did not turn around. Instead, she navigated her way through the party crowd.

" _Viviana, please_."

Berserk snapped around at the mention of her real name. The name he would only use for her in their intimate moments. Butch analyzed the mixture of emotions on her face. He could tell the usage of her name was sending a montage of their times together through her mind. Her hot pink eyes grew glassy as she glared at him.

"I can't hate you, Butch," she said through her teeth. "It's impossible even if I try. So I guess you got both of the things you wanted? Buttercup and for me not to hate you. Congratulations. Now. Leave. Me. Alone."

Butch remained silent, letting Berserk toss him one last glance over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd of people.

He was split into two. One side wanted to chase after her and to fix things between them. The other side told him to go meet up with the others. To go back to Buttercup.

Butch inhaled sharply, making his way to the front door, deciding to not let his emotions get the best of him. For them not to cloud his judgement, as he had to do the right thing.

* * *

 _September 21st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Butch honked the horn of his new car after parking in front of Blossom's home, letting her know he was there. He waited for a minute or two before she came out, dressed in black jeans and plain red t-shirt. Butch chuckled to himself, knowing this was probably the only appropriate attire Blossom had in her closet to fit in at the punk concert.

"Hey," she greeted warmly as she entered his car, her eyebrow arched. "Brick gave you the _Mustang_? He wouldn't even let me take it on a test run."

"He probably thinks you're a shit driver," Butch laughed, pulling out into the road and making his way to Brick's house.

"I am not," she pouted as she folded her arms together.

Butch shrugged his shoulders, "Then give Brick a piece of your mind."

"Oh, I will," Blossom chuckled. She angled her head to face him. "So why the new car?"

"I fucked up the engine in my last one."

"Oh my… I'm so sorry." She cleared her throat, speaking in a low tone. "You know, if you need help getting a new one, I can help."

Butch flashed her a grateful smile for a brief second before returning his eyes on the road. Out of all of his friends, Blossom was the only one who somewhat knew about Fuzzy and his financial concerns because of her mom. When she found out, Blossom immediately offered to help him out whenever him or Fuzzy needed it. Clothes, school supplies, new equipment for the bakery, anything to help them out for the time being, Blossom was there.

It was one of the many reasons why Butch has always cherished his friendship with the redhead and was glad she was back in Townsville.

"It's fine. Brick is suppose to pull some strings for me but it will take a few months."

"Ah. Well, that's not too bad. You most likely wouldn't have to get a new car."

"God, I hope not. I've been through so much with that car," He reminisced. "I got my first ticket in that car. My first accident. My first time…" he said sheepishly under his breath. Blossom's eyebrow shot up for a brief second, caught off guard by his remark. "Fuck man… I did so much fucking stuff in that car."

"I can relate. I'm so attached to my car now because of how much I went through with it."

"Exactly. It's like my precious baby… That I had a shit ton of sex in," Butch acknowledged, laughing a little bit but was plagued by memory of Berserk's skin against his. How he should not long for the feeling between them again but he did.

"Okay. I really don't need to know anymore about what you do with Buttercup," Blossom resisted, plugging her ears.

"It wasn't…" He paused, reminding himself who he was talking to. Reminding himself that he could not talk about his time with Berserk. Nor should he be thinking about it. Butch sighed sharply, nodding his head, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she smiled, unplugging her ears.

For the rest of the ride to Brick's house, the two caught up on various topics, realizing they have not had a moment alone since Blossom got back into town. She told him about her classes at MIT and her road trip, while he discussed new recipes he has been working on and whether he should drop out of the community college for pastry school as his heart was not into sports marketing or any other subject at the college—a thought he has yet to propose to Buttercup because the closest school was in Phoenix and he was not going to bring it up until he was sure about his decision.

"I think you should do it," Blossom said after hearing him explain his reasoning.

"You do?"

"Of course. It's what you're passionate about. You're fantastic at what you already do, so imagine what it would be like if you learned more techniques and styles."

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded, pulling over to the side of the road as they parked in front of Brick's house. Butch ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, "I'm just worried about leaving Fuzzy alone. I don't know if he can run the place without me and—"

He paused, interrupted by Blossom's gaining a grip on his shoulder. Her rose-colored eyes gazed at him with sincerity.

"If you go to school in Phoenix, I'll make sure to stay in Townsville until you're done. Therefore, I can help Fuzzy around the shop. Free of charge," She proposed, ending with a kind smile.

"I can't possibly ask you to do that, Blossom. You have your own life to live. I don't want you to put it on pause because of me."

"Hey. I offered," Blossom shrugged. "Besides. I already had my chance to leave Townsville and look where it got me. I think it's better if I stay for awhile." She glanced outside the window, smiling softly. "I kind of am starting to thoroughly like my life here anyways."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

Butch swiftly wrapped his arms around the redhead, smothering her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Words can't describe how thankful I am for you, Bloss."

"I feel the same way about you, Butch," she grinned, patting his back.

When they parted, Butch let out an anxious breath, smiling uncontrollably to himself. Going to pastry school could open a lot of doors for him. It could be his exit ticket from Townsville.

 _The right exit ticket_.

However, it was going to have to wait.

He frowned slightly, honking the horn of his car to alert Brick of their presences.

"I'll have to figure everything out after all of this passes by," he said with a slight bitterness in his voice. "You know, if we make it out alive."

"I promise we will," Blossom reassured.

Butch analyzed her smile, knowing he should not trust such an idea but since it came from Blossom, he started to believe it.

"I hope so," he murmured as Brick entered the car, taking a seat in the back.

As they made their way to Taipan, Blossom informed them of their criteria for the night.

"We need to have our eyes opens and ears actively listening all night. Anything that may seem useless, may actually be useful. Butch, since you know more about the Gangreen Gang and the bar, you should be the one to look for Ace," Blossom advised. He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. She turned in her seat, speaking towards Brick. "Brick, you will be in charge of getting information from the bar since you're the only one here over twenty-one."

"You know they don't care about that," Butch snorted.

"Well I do," Blossom retorted. "I don't want any of us getting in trouble."

"We'll be fine, sweetheart," Brick smiled.

" _Sweetheart_?" Butch questioned, arching an eyebrow and glancing at Brick through his rear-view mirror. "Pet names? Really?"

"It's more of a term of endearment, Butch," Brick dismissed.

"Huh," the dark-haired male chuckled. His shifted his eyes briefly between the two, making it clear that he was not falling for the "we can't be together" act Brick had put on the day before. It was clear he was attempting to hide whatever type of relationship him and Blossom had.

The question was, what else was Brick hiding from him?

* * *

Taipan was the same as he remembered. The same mixture of smells lingered in the dim lit air. The same types of individuals frequented the place; however, there was a sprinkle of a different crowd of punk fans there for the night. Hell, there was the same bartender he had forgotten to pay the very night he first hooked up with Berserk.

"Wow…" Blossom inhaled, choking a little at the harsh smell of the place. "This is…"

"A total dump," Brick finished, surveying the place. "Is any of this up to code?" He lifted up the black boot on his right leg. His face grimacing in disgust, "And what the hell am I stepping in that is so fucking sticky?"

"You really don't want to know," Butch chuckled.

Brick shook his head, taking in deep breaths. He began rubbing his arms erratically, similar to when Bubbles got an onset of chills, "Yeah. This place is doing wonders for my OCD."

"It's okay," Blossom comforted, rubbing his shoulders, prompting for him to stop rubbing his arms for a brief moment before it started up again. "Just breath in and out, Brick."

"I don't think that's going to work," he mumbled, his eyes diverging in every direction of the bar. His mind rapidly at work with compulsive thoughts. "I can already feel my anxiety coming in."

"You should probably stay with him," Butch advised, meeting Blossom's eyes. "He'll be the one to attract attention to us if he keeps freaking out like this."

She gave him a single nod, "You're right." Blossom let go of her grip on Brick, placing it on Butch's shoulder. Her mouth opening to tell him to be careful but her eyes went blank from the contact.

* * *

 _Date Unknown_

 _Location Unknown_

 _Time Unknown…_

Blossom did not know where she was. Her surroundings were so completely unfamiliar, she was not even sure if she was in Townsville. She was enclosed in a dark room. The walls were bare and made of concrete.

She was not in Taipan anymore.

Wait.

Blossom knew she was not in her actual physical location. Yet, she was having a vision.

She furrowed her eyebrows, finding it strange how she did not have the perspective of the person she had touched, like it has been done with her other previous visions.

If this vision was connected to Butch, then where was he?

Blossom glanced around the room, finding a single door by the northern wall. She quietly twisted the door knob, peering into the room. It was a small interrogation room. A glass frame was to the right of her while a metal table was in the center.

The redhead approached the glass, attempting to see if there was any chance of her being able to look through it but she found something else to be more interesting.

She had no reflection. Even if this glass was double-sided, Blossom should still be able to see herself. She glanced down to herself, finding her body to be completely transparent.

It was as if she was a ghost.

Blossom squeezed her eyes together tightly, attempting to snap herself out of the vision but could not find any success.

As she did this, the door to room abruptly opened and a furious Berserk entered with Butch trailing behind her, slamming the door behind him. They appeared to be in a shouting match but Blossom could not be entirely sure because they were muted to her. She could only base this on their body language and their facial expressions.

Berserk moved her hands erratically in the air, her face growing heated from the argument. Butch kicked over one of the chairs in the room, tugging on his hair out of frustration.

Blossom took note to the longer length of Butch's hair. It was about an inch or two longer than what it was shaped to at the moment. His hair attaining the same thick curls he once had before she left. This gave her the assumption that this moment would occur in a month or two if it did not get derailed like the City Hall fire did.

They continued going at each other, still muted to Blossom, when there was a turning point. Butch had softened his expression, reaching out for her. Berserk rejected his advances, turning her back to him.

The redhead was shocked by Butch attempt to touch Berserk. It seemed odd since he was extremely loyal to Buttercup.

Her eye widened at the realization in which she figured out that this moment could occur after the breakup between Buttercup and him that she originally witnessed.

The only thing that did not make sense to Blossom, was why Butch was with Berserk? It was so out of left field she never would have expected it. Or maybe she was making too many assumptions from one single scene.

Just as she made the thought, Butch and Berserk were no longer muted.

"You're full of bullshit," Berserk dismissed. She was trying to insult him but Blossom could only sense the pain in her voice.

Blossom was correct. Butch and Berserk…

The redhead continued watching intensively, in shock and intrigue.

"I have never lied to you, Viviana," he pleaded, reaching out for her again.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Viviana? Why was he calling her that? And why was there such a tenderness in his voice when speaking the name?

She jerked away, glaring at him as she crossed over to the other side of the room.

"You don't have the right to call me that anymore."

"Look, I know I fucked up. I was confused. I thought if I finally got what I always wanted, then I'll be happy but I realized that, yeah, I really did want Buttercup at one point in my life. I needed to be with her to see that she wasn't what I truly wanted. It took me a long time to figure it out, and her breaking up with me did help me come to that conclusion," Butch rambled, speaking cautiously in a fast pace. "But… I've spent most of my life obsessing over a girl that I convinced myself to continue loving because it was the right thing. I couldn't break up with her because I couldn't break her heart. We have so much history, it seemed impossible to cut it off. We are connected to each other by this invisible thread. It will always be like that no matter what because she was my first love."

Butch took a deep breath, slowly making his way towards Berserk.

"But that doesn't mean she is the only person I will ever love. Nor does that mean she is suppose to be the love of my life. That is where I fucked up. I fucked up by convincing myself that I had to make her out to be that even after I realized I did not feel as strongly for her as I had beforehand. I fucked up by choosing to be with her, not knowing it was my subconscious way to forget about the electric connection I have with you." He grasped for her hand this time, and Berserk allowed it. She eyed him with a heavy heart as he fiddled with her fingers, continuing on, "I love her, yes. She was my best friend for over a decade. _But I'm in love with you_. I have been since the night at the bar. I learned to keep those emotions quiet after you broke up with me. I tried to force them onto Buttercup without knowing. I slowly realized I was still in love with you after Princess' Labor Day party. I wanted to fight it afterward and I made the mistake of staying with Buttercup when I knew of my feelings. And when she broke up with me, I couldn't help feeling a slight relief because it meant I didn't have to deny how I feel about you."

Blossom stood in the corner in shock. Butch did not love Buttercup? How could that be possible? Every time she was around them, they seemed to be more and more in love with each day. And he said he realized it after the Labor Day party. _That was three weeks ago_ , she recalled.

For the past couple of weeks, Butch has been lying to Buttercup.

Blossom stomped over to the tall dark-haired male, drawing her fist back tightly. She threw a punch at him but her hand phased through him, hitting the concrete wall instead.

The redhead winced from the pain, glaring at Butch even though he could not see her.

"How do I know you're not lying to me like you did to her?" Berserk murmured faintly.

Blossom snorted to herself, keeping her eyes narrowed at him. "You were right. He is full of BS. So don't trust him, Berserk."

Of course, Berserk could not hear her as Butch replied to her.

"Because I don't think I have the heart to lie to you, Viviana. To keep away from you." He drew closer to her. His hands ran up her arms to perch themselves on her shoulders. "I wouldn't lie because I don't want to lose you again. I can't pretend to be okay with you trying to run away from me."

"Butch…"

Blossom observed as Berserk phased through her, her hand clutching on the collar of Butch's shirt, pulling him into a frantic kiss. His hands dug into her hair as he slammed her into the wall.

The redhead watched in disappointment and shock as Berserk pulled Butch's shirt over his head, throwing it onto the ground. Her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. He quickly turned around, placing her onto top of the metal table in the room.

Blossom widened her eyes, moving herself towards a corner, unwilling to view whatever was going to occur. She closed her eyes tightly again, wishing to snap out of this vision. The redhead could feel the scene fading away from her as she opened her eyes again. Butch and Berserk slowly disappeared into a blinding white light. The table and chairs went next. Then the concrete walls.

All that was left was the glass window. As Blossom felt herself gaining her consciousness again, she observed a devilish grin from behind the glass.

The same grin that has haunted her dreams for a month now.

But that did not her trouble. What troubled her the most, was a question she had yet to figure out during the entire vision.

Where was she and why was there an interrogation room?

* * *

 _September 21st_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Are you okay, Blossom?"

In a rapid second, reality rushed back to Blossom. She blinked in the dusty lights of Taipan. Her stare hardening at Butch as she remembered what she just saw.

More so, what she heard.

"I'm fine," she said sharply. "I just…" Butch watched as her demeanor shifted, going from fury to distraught and disappointment. Her voice coming out as a soft whisper strickened with distress. "Be careful. And don't trust anyone..."

"Of course," he grinned, giving her a salute before disappearing into the crowd.

He weaved through plentiful of leather jackets, heading for the back of the bar where it was rumored to be Ace's office. To his delight, the rumors were true as he found Ace's trusted lackeys guarding the door. Big Billy and Snake were standing like statues, arms folded.

As he approached them, they both turned to each other, whispering furiously before grinning wickedly at him.

"I need to see Ace," Butch said firmly, not feeling the need to beat around the bush.

"Sure," Snake replied, elongating the "s" sound. "But you'll have to pay a price first."

Butch rolled his eyes, grumbling an explicit under his breath for a moment before containing himself. "I'll make sure Gangreen Gang members with seniority eat free at the bakery for a month."

"Make it two," Billy bargained.

"Fine. It will be two months of free food," Butch said through his teeth. "Now I would like to speak to Ace."

"It's your funeral," Snake shrugged as him and Billy stepped aside, opening the large oak door behind them.

Butch entered into the office, taking in the space. The walls were covered in a rich dark wood paneling, making the space seem heavier than it should be. There was a lingering smell of cigarettes smoke in the air and liquor. A large portrait of a green snake was placed above Ace's desk, inciting fear into anyone who dared to look into it's drawn eyes.

"Butch…" Ace greeted ominously, turning in a large leather chair to face the dark-haired male. "I haven't had the pleasure of seeing you around lately."

"I prefer it that way."

"How cruel," he pretended to gasp in offense. "And here I thought we were on good terms now." The lanky male leaned forward onto his desk, pressing down his dark glasses to the bridge of his nose, meeting Butch's eyes. "You know, since Berserk dumped your ass, we no longer have any conflict of interest."

Butch felt his chest tighten again at the mention of Berserk, making it uncomfortable for him to breath.

"Cut the bullshit, Ace. You know why I'm here."

Ace leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. A tight smirk spread across his thin lips.

"And what would that be?"

Butch placed his hands firmly on the surface of Ace's desk, narrowing his eyes at him. "Elmer Porowski. He is mysteriously brought into a hospital for carbon monoxide poisoning a few days ago yet the Gangreen Gang is claiming responsibility and threatening for it to happen again. Why does this have your greasy name all over it?"

"Because it does," Ace grinned devilishly. "Someone in Townsville has made the lethal decision to wage war on the Gangreen Gang. We're simple retaliating until that person comes forward. If they do not, Townsville can expect for the war to continue."

"We both know it wouldn't stop with just the arson," Butch snorted. "Once you get the Town's people to fear you and get the taste of absolute power, you wouldn't quit, Ace. You're too greed to be diplomatic about this." He then widened his eyes, recalling the very words Ace had uttered to him over a year ago. Butch folded his arms together, shaking his head, "Besides. You have eyes and ears all over Townsville. I'm sure you already know who destroyed the factory. You're just using it as propaganda for lower level members to do whatever you want without any hesitations." He leaned closer into the desk, staring at Ace in disgust. "You already know this was not a simple match to a building but a person with pyrokinesis and you don't really care about catching them because you want the chaos. You want the destruction because it will make it easier to control Townsville. You're playing chess with our lives and don't give a shit about it, don't you?"

Ace chuckled darkly at his remarks, nodding his head. "You know, Butch? You're way more smart than they credit you for. Everyone has always typecast you as the bumbling idiot in your group. A golden retriever is what most people used to describe you as but maybe you're the most intelligent out of all of them." Ace angled his chin. His soulless eyes catching the light as he scanned Butch's, "Or perhaps, you're not as innocent as everyone believes. You're not naive to what we do here yet I have never heard you tell a soul about us or our identities. Ignorance may be bliss, but when you know about individuals being murdered, getting caught up in human trafficking, or providing to the addiction crisis, a person like you should have spoken up by now." Ace stood up from his desk, swirling around his room like a shark circling it's prey. "You're not good, Butch. Your heart is tainted beyond repair. So why don't you drop the noble act already and fully accept who you really are." He stopped right under Butch's ear. His cigarette breath hitting Butch's face like a brick. "You're no better than me. You're not better than any of us in a Gangreen Gang jacket. You might as well face it, you belong with us."

Butch scoffed at the lanky male's proposition, glaring at him from the corner of his eyes. He immediately widened his eyes, noticing the green tint to Ace's skin. His complexion appearing similar to one used for _Frankenstein_ in films.

It was a side effect, the obvious sign of Ace's powers. A warning sign to Butch to tread lightly as Ace could attack him at any given time.

"I have to respectfully decline your offer," he said cautiously.

"Why not?" Ace hissed. "I already envision you to be my second in command. The two of us could be running that shithole of a town in less than a month."

"Again. I'll have to decline," Butch replied more firmly.

"But wouldn't you like to have some fun for once instead of being such a bore?" He smirked, reminding Butch of a cartoon villain. All Ace needed was a mustache to fiddle with.

"I don't care about what you think I should be doing."

"Someone is getting a bit hostile," Ace acknowledged, opening his palm in front of Butch. A stream of thick smog rose up in the air before him. "Perhaps I should fix it?"

Butch watched the smoke flow towards his nostrils, forbidding himself from breathing it in. He took a step back, shaking his head.

"That wouldn't be necessary," he mumbled.

"Then I suggest you either become one of us or stay out of our business," Ace warned, pressing his glasses back to mask his eyes and returning to his desk. His lifted his hand, waving it. "You can leave now."

Butch took in a deep gulp, accepting this was all the information he would get. He also realized there was no way they could be able to take down the Gangreen Gang tonight. Blossom's powers were too useless in this situation and Brick did not have any. It left only Butch to be a line of defense and he had no idea how to properly use his powers since he has only used them during the fight at the lake.

All they could get from this night was the confirmation of Ace's powers and the war on the horizon being produced by the Gangreen Gang.

As he left Ace's office, Butch was greeted by the speakers of the bar amplified with a throaty voice. A kaleidoscope of violets, maroon, and blues danced across the room from the small stage on the other side of the space. A band of four men stood there, playing their instruments aggressively, sweat covering their faces.

Butch inhaled sharply, smiling for a slight second as the band reminded him of Berserk once again. This was the type of band she would have appreciated.

He remembered the one time he had surprised her with tickets to a concert in Citiesville for Christmas. She had spent the entire night singing at the top of her lungs, knowing every single word. Afterward, she had lost her voice and fell asleep on the way back to his place. At stop lights, Butch glance over to her, wondering how he got so lucky to be with someone so precious as her. It was in one of those many moments, did Butch realize how much he was in love with her.

It was strange how Butch was beginning to recognize those feelings never left. They were only repressed and replaced. He was still in love with her despite the fact that their relationship happened almost two years ago.

He had to disregard those emotions at the moment, however. Instead, Butch focused back on his purpose for being at Taipan, searching for Blossom and Brick.

But instead of finding the redheads, he found her.

Their eyes met at the exact same moment. He could hear the lightning crackling in his ears with such a deafening strength. An intense pull gravitated him to her. He did not even realize he was moving until he stood right in front of her. They stared at each other in silence, multiple strikes of lightning shocking through them. The lasting after effects pulsed through their veins.

"Why are you here?" She asked with an icy tone despite her eyes melting at the sight of him.

"I had some things to discuss with Ace."

"Since when do you discuss things with Ace?"

"Today," Butch chuckled lightly despite the substantial amount of pressure he felt inside him. He ran a hand through his hair as he licked his bottom lip, searching for the right words to say.

"You're playing with your hair," Berserk pointed out. "Which means you either got a lot on your mind, you're hiding something, or you're going to confess something to me."

"You're right on all three parts," he nodded, not surprised she still knew how to read him based on his old habits.

He watched as her lips pressed tightly together. They were a bright red, similar to the shade of a _Coca Cola_ can. His body longed to feel her lips against his skin again. To taste her one more time.

"You can't keep doing this, Butch," she mumbled on her breath, looking away from him. "You have a girlfriend."

"I know," he said shamefully. "It just… I can't stop thinking about you. And… I know I hurt you. There's no way I can fix it and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry, Viviana."

She gave him a single nod. Her face illuminated by the kaleidoscope of colors from the stage.

"Thank you," she said softly. Her chin lifted up to help her meet his eyes. He noticed how she barely wore any makeup tonight. Only a thick mascara and the red lipstick. It made her appear so simple when she was actually complex as hell. "I appreciate that."

"Look, I…" he paused, taking a step closer to her. Her back was pressed flat against the grimy wall of the bar. She analyzed his face thoroughly, panic flashing in her eyes. Yet, there was a tiny glimmer. A small piece of hope that wanted this close proximity between them. He placed a hand on her neck, leaning down to meet her forehead. Butch took in the powerful aroma of her perfume. The smell of blood oranges and cinnamon. "Tell me that I'm the only one who still feels something between us. Tell me that I'm out of my mind. Tell me that you stopped loving me. Tell me anything…"

She chewed on her bottom lip, taking in the stark taste of her lipstick. Her mind whirled with answers for him. After sometime, Berserk let out a defeated breath.

"We can't do this, Butch," Berserk whispered delicately. "You can't keep flip flopping between Buttercup and me."

"If you—"

"You should stay with her," she interjected. "You would be happier with her. She's a better fit for you."

"That's not what I want," he argued. "I want… I want…"

"Butch, please," Berserk pleaded. Her lip began to waver as her eyes became glassy, staring up at him through her thick eyelashes. "I don't want to be that person. I don't you to sacrifice your good heart for me. Stay with her. It's for the better."

"I'm not as good as you think I am," Butch replied, begging for her to give him more.

"Don't fool yourself into believing whatever anyone will tell you. You're a good person, Butch. You just made some bad decisions… because of me."

"The only bad decision I made concerning you, Viviana, was letting you go so easily," he whispered against her ear before taking a step away from her.

He lingered in front of her for a moment, waiting and hoping she would say something back but got nothing in return. Butch nodded, understanding and respecting her decision for the moment but promised to himself that he would not give up on her again.

Without a goodbye, Butch entered into the crowd again, searching for the redheads again. He had to make his entire way towards the entrance of the bar to find them as they stood close to the doors, their backs against the wall. They stood side-by-side. Brick had his eyes closed, keeping up a healthy amount of deep breaths. Blossom had her head laying against his shoulder, her hand holding onto his as she stroked her thumb against the top of his hand. It must of been her way to calm him down.

Butch narrowed her eyes for a second at the duo, taking this scene as the very confirmation that there was no way to deny they were together.

He then adjusted himself, pretending he did not see a thing as he approached them.

"We need to leave," he said to them, watching as they quickly jumped apart from each other.

"I've never been more relieved in my life," Brick huffed, swiftly exiting the bar. He led them to Butch's car through the parking lot as Blossom and Butch walked side-by-side.

"Did you find anything out?" She asked.

"Only that Ace does have some type of toxic air powers and that the Gangreen Gang wants to start a war in Townsville."

Blossom arched an eyebrow, shocked by his revelation, "A war?"

Butch nodded, "And they'll continue on even if the pyro wasn't in the picture."

"So that means…"

He stopped in his tracks, with Blossom doing the same. Butch stared intensely in her eyes, "It means we need to end the Gangreen Gang. No matter what the cost is."

* * *

 _September 22nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

It was around midnight when Butch finished dropping off Blossom and Brick respectively. He was exhausted from the night and all the range of emotions he has been under for the past few days. All he wanted to do was sleep in until two in the afternoon but he knew he had to wake up in four hours for prep at the bakery.

As he pulled up to his house, he immediately spotted Buttercup sitting at his doorstep. Her eyes glued to her phone as she waited for him. Butch took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to whatever conversation they were about to have.

The sound of his car door closing caused Buttercup to look up from her phone. A soft smile spread across her face at the sight of him. He mustered up a small one in return despite his exhaustion and the feeling as if he was lying to her.

"Hey," she greeted, sitting up and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She took a sharp inhale against the fabric of his shirt, taking a step away from him. "Why do you smell like perfume?"

"I do?" Butch furrowed his eyebrows, smelling his shirt. It had the lingering scent of blood oranges and cinnamon. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. "Oh. I must have gotten the smell when I hugged Blossom earlier today."

He knew it was fucked up for him to lie to her, but deep down, Butch found no fault in it because he did hug Blossom earlier in the day. It was him simply choosing to reveal certain truths. The same way he got out of telling Buttercup about Berserk. She had only asked him if he fucked around with someone else, not if he had a relationship.

Not if he fell in love with someone else.

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at him for a brief second in disbelief before dropping the expression, sighing to herself. She took a seat back down on his doorstep again as Butch did the same next to her.

After a minute of silence, she finally spoke to him.

"So we made no progress today," Buttercup began. "Brute was jaded as ever, Brat is apparently sick so she wasn't able to talk today. Robin kept trying to sell Bubbles and I a fish to help save the pet store. Fuck, even Boomer started to help her after a while because he saw the opportunity too. And then Berserk wasn't in work today despite being the fucking assistant manager," she remarked bitterly.

Butch nodded. His body tensed up from the mention of Berserk.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"How did things go for you?"

Butch informed her about Ace and his powers. How the Gangreen Gang was too dangerous to ignore.

She did not seem swayed by his information, her mind still wrapped up on the pyro and their identity.

"If Ace has toxic powers, that leaves five without any confirmed powers since I do know what Princess' is. It should be so easy to figure this out but none of it makes sense to me. I have so many theories but everything leads back to one yet that cannot be plausible, right?"

"What do mean?"

"I mean, I don't believe one of the punks is the pyro now because the factory fire was done by a single person and they don't do anything without each other." Butch wanted to cut in and tell her that she was incorrect but remained mum instead, listening to her theory. "Then Robin is too weak to remain quiet about something that big for this long. Especially with Elmer being in the hospital."

Butch arched an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes at her, "Are you implying that you think it's Brick?"

"I don't…" She exhaled loudly, massaging the sides of her head. "If it is, I don't know why he would do it. Everything points to him but his reasoning for committing the crime, is what stops me from believing it. It just doesn't sound like Brick…" Buttercup paused, widening her eyes. She sat up straight, speaking furiously. "But then again, what do we truly know about Brick? Huh? Like what happened to his foster dad? Why does he live on the outskirts of Townsville? Why has he avoided coming into the town for any reasons whatsoever for the past couple of years but now wants to show up all the time? Why does he not have powers when a majority of evidence we have suggests he should? It doesn't match up, Butch."

Butch nodded, pondering over her various questions.

"You do make some good points," he agreed. "He also lied to me about him and Blossom. I caught them holding hands at the bar, yet when I asked him about her, Brick said they couldn't be together."

"And if he's lying about that, then he's probably lying about not having powers," Buttercup finished rapidly.

"Exactly. Which then makes Brick the pyro," Butch determined.

"Holy shit," Buttercup whispered. "I had an idea that it would be him but now knowing it truly is him after all this time… I can't fucking believe he has been lying to us."

"I know," Butch mumbled, feeling uneasy about the topic of lying. "But we can't do anything about it right now. We need to avoid ruffling any feathers with all the Gangreen Gang stuff happening. But more importantly, because he's with Blossom. We can't destroy this for her. She needs to figure it out on her own."

"But what if she already has?"

"Then Blossom isn't who I thought she was," he shrugged. "Either way, we need to keep quiet about this."

"Fine…"

"Until we can say anything, we should figure out why he would burn down the factory."

Buttercup nodded, "And start a war with the Gangreen Gang."

Butch did not reply to her as he thought over what the reason could be but there was one idea that stood out. One that was so outrageous. One too damaging for him to say out loud.

However, it did not tame his fears of the unknown. Of what they were going up against.

* * *

"Do you want to explain to me why nothing happened tonight?" the shadow sneered.

"I wasn't… I wasn't feeling it," she dismissed pitifully. "It didn't feel right."

"Didn't feel right?" The shadow exasperated in rage. "I don't care about your feelings. What I need is for you to be my soldier for chaos like you agreed. Don't you want the world, darling?"

She nodded solemnly, pursing her lips together as she stood in silence, listening to the demonic energy in front of her

"Perfect," the shadow growled. "Then the next time you see him, make sure to break him. Make him into one of us."

Her mouth opened in protest but the shadow disappeared into thin air, leaving a cloud to dissipate around her.

She chewed onto her bottom lip, conflicted with the task she was given. She did not want to break him. It would be too painful for her.

He, however, was one of the main keys to chaos. To break a golden heart was going to make their efforts much smoother.

The problem was, she loved his heart too much to even want to mess with it. She did not want him to flip and become one of them.

She began to wonder what did she exactly get herself into and whether it was worth it.

Whether the darkness inside of her was strong enough to overcast the small glimmer of hope clinging for dearly life inside of her ever since he left her life.

Whether if she wanted it too or if she wanted to run away from it like everything else she did in her life.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Heyyyyy...**

 **So how about that curve ball?**

 **Honestly, I was super nervous to introduce Butch and Berserk's relationship because I truly love the greens and their relationship, and also for the reaction I may get but I also wanted to test out something different that I believe hasn't been done before. Also, they are not huge, but I did drop a few hints before this chapter about Butch and Berserk's secret relationship, which one of them was clarified in this chapter. So there you go, you have Buttercup's perspective of her relationship, Butch's perspective, and now you'll have to wait to read Berserk's perspective to this brewing love triangle I have...**

 **On another note, I took the time to create visual elements for each character in this story, and also my other one, on _Pinterest_. If you're interest in checking them out, the link is in my bio. Certain boards are private right now because they contain slight spoilers, especially for this story since only five characters have had the spotlight. Nonetheless, they're pretty cool and help give a better understanding on some characters, which is why I think you should check them out when you get a chance.**

 **Also, special shoutout to xXRomeXx. Your review totally warmed my heart and made my day when I read it. So thank you so much!**

 **Like always, thank you for reading and please review!**


	7. The Thunder

_March 29th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Five years ago..._

She did not know how she made it here. The entire day had become such a blur since finding out the news.

Since the police arrived at her house out of the blue to inform her and her mom that her dad had passed away. Something about him having suffocated in his car by the lake.

A freak accident they described it to be.

Buttercup has not felt her eyes dry up since. Her mind not willing to accept the reality of the situation.

There was no way, the single person she loved the most in the world, was gone. There was absolutely no way.

Her mom was hysterically too. She had sunken to the floor upon hearing about her dad's death. Her shrills of agony replayed over and over in Buttercup's ear.

Her mom was never one to show emotion. Never has Buttercup seen her mom cry until today. Today, she saw how weak her mom could truly be.

Buttercup did not like seeing this. Her entire world shaken up in the matter of three hours.

She needed an escape.

That was how she somehow ended up at the doorsteps of Butch's home.

It took her a large amount of willpower to knock on his door, taking him about a minute to open it. Without any context, he immediately wrapped his arms around her. His tall figure covered and protected her from whatever danger existed in the world.

She created a large wet stain on his shirt, not even bothering to ask about wiping her tears on the cotton fabric because she already knew he was going to be okay with it.

They stayed like this for five minutes. Five minutes of silence. Five minutes of the heat radiating from his body to make her feel alive for the first time in the past three hours.

When she finally got the courage, Buttercup took a seat on his doorstep, with him following suit. She told him everything about what the cops said. How she could not believe a single word they told her and her mom.

How she was not sure if she would be able to feel anything ever again.

He did not say anything. Butch simply listened, keeping his arm wrapped tightly around her. He let her head rest on his shoulder in order to cry into it. His silent presence provided the appropriate comfort she needed.

Neither moved for what seemed like a lifetime. Not when the sky changed from pink and orange to fade into purple and then a pitch black. Not when the stars glistened above them, informing them of how late it was.

She did not remember when she did fall asleep that night. It must have been after physically exhausting her body from all the sobbing she had done during the day. However, she did know she fell asleep because she woke up in her bed the next afternoon. Her covers tucked in so careful around her body.

Buttercup figured her mom may have had done this, but she found a plate wrapped in plastic wrap containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies. As she unwrapped the plastic, taking a bite of the first food she has had in more than twenty-four hours With her eyes burning against her skull, Buttercup could not forgot how grateful she was to have Butch in her life.

How at least, from all of this, she would still have him by her side.

* * *

 _September 23rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"Buttercup?" Blossom questioned, surprised to see her dark-haired friend sitting on her front porch swing. She took out her key-chain from her purse, locking the door to her home. "What are you doing here?"

Buttercup arched an eyebrow, using her left leg to move the bench back and forth, "I was wondering if you would want to hang out tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" The redhead glanced up, making her way to the swing. "What's the occasion?"

"I need a girls day," Buttercup shrugged, keeping a neutral expression.

She was not going to reveal her ulterior motive to Blossom because it would obviously cause her to not want to come. No one would agree to hearing all the reasons why their current boyfriend was a pyromaniac and a psychopath.

Buttercup knew she had to be subtle about her plan to wake Blossom up to who she was dating. In her opinion, the worst thing for a girl, was to being dating someone they did not truly know. Therefore, Buttercup saw it as a way to look out for Blossom because she cared about her too much to let her continue dating Brick.

"Well I'll have to talk to Brick, but I'm believe I can," she smiled. "Just means Brick will have to put in extra work today."

"Oh, I bet," Buttercup said under her breath, rolling her eyes. She then stood up from the swing, stretching her arms out. "I should go talk to Bubbles about this." Her jade eyes met Blossom's, "I also think we should do something about the Gangreen Gang tomorrow night too."

"Are you sure? We wouldn't have that much fire power between the three of us."

"Of course, I am," she grinned. "The three us? We're unstoppable together. Whatever happens, I promise the Gangreen Gang will be done."

She watched as Blossom seemed hesitant to agree to her plan. Her mind deep in thought.

"Was this the real reason why you wanted to go out tomorrow?"

"No."

Blossom folded her eyebrows together for a brief second, not believing Buttercup. She took in a sharp breath, breaking eye contact in order to stare out to the road in front of her house.

"You and Butch are good, right?" The redhead asked gently. "Things haven't been weird between the both of you?"

"We're good," she replied quickly, confused and suspicious of Blossom's question. Despite saying they were good, Buttercup did not vocalize how her mind thought about the small distance he has made in the past few weeks. How he would subtlety move away from her. The way he would brush away her touch and would barely make the effort to be affectionate with her lately. How he seemed to be in his head a lot more. His eyes clouded by whatever was troubling him. "Why?"

Blossom shook her head, putting up her hands to signal no harm, "I'm just making sure. You never know with how tense things have been, it's nice to make sure all of our relationships are still strong."

"Yeah," Buttercup breathed, sticking her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

Her mind wondered if her relationship was strong enough for what was going on. If she should be worried or not. If they had the type of love that was tough enough to make it through all the chaos around them.

Buttercup wanted an answer immediately. She could not stand being in the unknown. It was a pet peeve she has had since she was a child. She had to know anything and everything. That was why this mystery around them and their powers was frustrating her greatly. She could not deal with another puzzle to solve at the moment even if she took the time to try.

The problem was, lately, Butch was becoming a enormous mystery to her. It was not the first time but she surely thought it would not happen again.

Buttercup simply wished things could be more clear between them.

But then a part of her, was not sure if she would be happy with whatever he was keeping to himself.

As the days went on, Buttercup was slowly beginning to feel like she knew Butch less and less. She could only hope this did not truly mean that they were growing apart again. That it was the stress and tension they felt.

That this did not _truly_ signal anything between them.

* * *

 _January 18th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _One year ago..._

It was strange.

Buttercup could remember growing up, her and Butch were nearly inseparable. Despite being one year apart in school, they spent anytime they had free with each other when attending elementary school. It was to the point that people started to confuse them as brother and sister because they were constantly with each other and had similar features.

Middle school complicated their dynamic a little as they both started hanging out with those who were their own gender more often. She grew closer with Blossom and Bubbles, while him and Boomer were as thick as thieves together. However, they still made time for each other. If they did not see each other one day, they both knew to make the effort to branch out the next.

Then high school made it worse. She had started to date around and he was too busy working at the bakery whenever he could. During those times, they would at least try to see each other once a week outside of school.

However, even with their busy schedules, Buttercup never felt a distance between them. They both cared about each other's lives. She knew what was going on in his and he continued to have an influence on her's.

After his junior prom, things took a shift. Once a week turned into once in two weeks. Then once a month to only when all their friends wanted to meet up.

She could not even remember the last time they genuinely had a conversation. Even when she spent the third anniversary of her dad's death with him, he chose to go to the movies, making the amount of discussion between them to the minimum.

Buttercup simply craved him. She craved their light-hearted conversations. She missed how easy he was to talk to. How he would listen to her thoroughly. She wanted the wise advice he was capable of giving that no one expected from him. Buttercup even missed his dumb jokes and comments.

To cut to the chase, she missed him all together. She has tried to find something similar to him in all the guys at her school but none of them were the same. None of them understood her like Butch did. No one had the same heart as him.

It was one of the plentiful reasons why Buttercup found herself undeniably in love with Butch even after rejecting him originally.

She longed for him so much that she forced herself to make an attempt at a awkward conversation with him after not seeing him for months. Her mind realized they had spent their first holiday season without seeing each other. He never even responded to her " _Merry Christmas_ " or " _Happy New Year's_ " text messages. She pushed this aside, instead asking him about Princess' birthday.

Butch's response was not what she expected. He barely spoke to her. His eyes moved erratically around the room. Buttercup could tell he was looking for someone but who? All of his close friends were right next to him. There was not anyone else Butch hung out with that much to be looking so intensely for.

Unless it was someone she did not know about but they lived in Townsville. There was no way Butch could have a new friend without the entire town having the knowledge of it.

He did not care about her weak attempt to catch up either, giving her short replies. She watched him, helplessly and confused by his lack of interest.

It as if she was talking to a stranger. Not someone she had grown up besides all her life.

She had to fix this. Buttercup knew this distance between them was all her fault. If she was not so impulsive and knew what she wanted at the beginning, they would not be separated like this.

"I… Butch," she breathed, swallowing the lump in her throat in which prevented her from having complete courage. Buttercup combed through her hair despite having spent an hour curling it. Her eyes focused on the swirling patterns of the marble tiling supporting them. "I'm so sorry for ruining our friendship. What I did was stupid and impersonal, and you deserve better. All you have ever done was love and support me, and all I have done is push you to the side until I need you. I don't… I don't blame you for trying to distance yourself from me because it must be hard to… _you know_ … It's hard for me too. I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. And I guess what I'm trying to say…" Buttercup paused, looking up, hoping to find him moved by her words. She wanted to take in his expression when she confessed her love for him. To see his face before he confessed that he still loves her and made the move to kiss her right here in front of everyone.

Instead, she found him fixated on something or someone across the room. His body shifted in another direction, open and vulnerable to them as he was closed off from her.

Buttercup blinked back the warmest peaking in her eyes, clearing her throat ever so slightly. She pitched her voice a bit higher, ensuring for him to hear her.

"So… I just want to make sure we're good?" She changed, no longer feeling motivated to reveal her feelings anymore. Those emotions becoming locked up in a safe inside her.

"Huh?" He arched an eyebrow, caught off guard from her question because it was the only thing he had paid any attention to. Her heart dropped at the realization she was no longer important to him. He began to take slow steps away from her, his destination focused on the area he spent the entire time watching attentively. His head nodded aggressively. "Yeah, yeah. We're totally good."

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.

Buttercup wanted to chase after him. To confront him about his strange behavior. She wanted to tell him how rude he was. Furthermore, Buttercup was interested in knowing what had captured his undivided attention.

Like if the heavens above heard her, the crowd parted, letting her eyesight to fall upon him across the room.

She scrunched her face up in shock, finding him in a conversation with Berserk?

Berserk was the person he was looking for the entire time?

Buttercup brushed off the idea of it but was quickly back to believing it as the orange-haired Latina inched closer to Butch. He did not take a step back from her or hesitate.

In fact, he seemed to be pleased by it. Comfortable by her action.

They spoke to each other intensely and intimately. She tipped her champagne glass in the air. The end of the flute finding itself in Buttercup's direction.

Berserk must have said something as Butch diverted his eyes over to her for a second.

Buttercup instantly felt her cheeks redden, tossing her eyes anywhere that was not Butch until he looked away.

His focus then went back to Berserk as she spoke closely to him. Her fingers smoothing out his tie as they spoke.

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at the orange-haired girl, hating the fact Berserk thought she could get away with touching Butch like this. It made her blood boil with envy and outrage.

Who did Berserk think she was?

Why was she looking at Butch like he was her's?

Why was he even talking to her?

It was a quiet feeling but Buttercup has never liked Berserk. This was produced by her mom seeming to prefer the orange-haired girl over her. She was like the daughter that her mom had truly wanted.

Not to mention Buttercup felt Berserk was a narcissist and a piss-poor human being. Berserk had quite the reputation at their high school, which has always made Buttercup leery of her. However, that was the least of her problems at the moment.

Her problem with Berserk at the moment, was how she was making a claim on Butch. It was clear Berserk was marking her territory from the motions she was making around him.

The strange thing was, Butch was allowing her to do this.

Why?

Buttercup was not aware of anytime that the two would have even spoken to each other before. Berserk was a year younger than him, like Buttercup, and Butch was one of the few people who attended her high school that did not pay any attention to the punks and their temptation.

None of this made sense to her. It was another thing she wanted to confront him about.

She began tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for Berserk to disappear into irrelevance where she belonged.

This did not happen, however. They stayed together, no space in between each other. Butch observed her so delicately as she examined his tie bashfully.

Were they having a moment? Could they…

Buttercup immediately rejected the idea. Butch would never go for someone like Berserk. Someone who was so selfish, malicious, vain, and apathetic. He was too much of a good person to ever dare to be with her.

She must be trying to seduce him for her own entertainment and the only reason he was going along with it was because he was too naive or he was too nice to call her out. That was the only explainable reasoning to what she was witnessing.

This did not stop her from being troubled by their interaction and when her friends wanted to join up with him again, Buttercup did not bother trying to add to the conversation.

She resented him a little at the moment. For his disrespectful and bizarre behavior. She pretended not to notice but she could tell he was fidgeting as Boomer asked if he wanted to get food with him. His eyes clouded over with a plethora of thoughts but his charismatic smile was on full display.

It seemed like a fake reaction. As if he wanted to be somewhere else.

Buttercup ached to know what was going on with him. She did not want to be strangers anymore.

She wanted Butch back but from tonight, maybe he has been gone too long for her to be able to reach him anymore.

* * *

 _September 23rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"Can I tell you how excited I am for today?" Bubbles grinned behind the wheel as Blossom entered her car. Her bright blue eyes meeting the redhead's through the rear view mirror. "Other than my job, I haven't had a great reason to get out of the house lately."

"Oh, Bubs," Blossom breathed, smiling softly at her blonde friend.

"So what's first on our agenda?" The blonde asked curiously, beating her fingers against the steering wheel. "Do you know where we would be having lunch?"

"No…" Buttercup eyed Bubbles suspiciously, arching an eyebrow. "Why are you so antsy?"

"I…" she let out a deep breath, inhaling another right after. "There's this guy who lives in Citiesville I have been seeing for a couple of months now and I was hoping you could meet him today at his job. He works at this organic restaurant."

"A couple of months?" Buttercup exasperated, glancing back at Blossom. Their minds both mutually going to same response.

 _Poor Boomer._

"Yeah… I know I should have told you sooner. It's just I've…"

Buttercup watched as Bubbles shifted rapidly from her perky attitude to a fragile shell of herself. The temperature in the car dropped significantly in the matter of seconds. She reached out for Bubbles' hand with her left hand while her other hand had put on the heater for the car despite the lingering heatwave outside their windows.

"It's okay, Bubbles," she attempted to sooth. Her fingers becoming numb as she spoke. It was a similar sensation to when she stuck her hand in a bucket of ice for too long. Her mind repeatedly telling her to let go of Bubbles' hand but Buttercup was stubborn enough not to do so until she made sure the blonde had calmed down. "You don't need to make excuses. You have the right to keep certain things private. And hey. I kept Butch and I a secret for about five months before you found out."

Her hand began to defrost a little as the corner of Bubbles' mouth turned upward.

"You're not wrong," Bubbles giggled lightly, returning to her normal self. Her eyes focused on the black _Mercedes_ parked in front of her. "Sorry about that. I have no clue what got over me," she oozed with a sugary tone.

Buttercup nodded, displaying her understanding while Blossom stayed quiet. The redhead observed Bubbles' action intensely, her lips pursed in thought. Buttercup wanted to ask what was on her mind. She felt left out of some unspoken conversation between the two.

However, her own self was perplexed with something else. She could not help but detect a hint of falseness in Bubbles' apology. Her sugary tone was too sweet. It left a cavity in her teeth, blackening her mind from understanding it was a lie. The interesting thing was, this must have been the first time Buttercup did not fall for it. She was no longer under the trace of the blonde's artificial smiles.

This brought on the question on why Bubbles was pretending to be okay. What exactly was she going through? And why did Bubbles not feel to bother with telling her? It seemed as if Blossom already knew or, at least, figured it out. So why was Buttercup feeling in the dark? First Butch, and now this?

Why did she feel like nothing in her life made sense anymore?

"So where to first?" Bubbles asked curiously after sometime, still parked in Blossom's driveway.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, gazing down at her chipped nails, "Well, first we need to stop by my mom's salon for three things."

"Which are?" Blossom asked, curving her eyebrow. Her eyes flashed with panic. It seemed as if she was formulating different scenarios in her mind. Silencing attempting to solve a future problem without knowing the full details.

It always bothered Buttercup when Blossom acted this way. She knew the redhead only wanted to help but Blossom could not solve every problem. There was a point where Blossom should accept the fact she should not get involved.

"One, I need to count the register since it's my mom's day off," Buttercup listed, groaning slightly at the mention of her mom.

When she said it was Sedusa's day off, it really meant it was her mom's day to act like the entire world was out to get her. It occurred at least once a week. She would spend the entire day in bed, wrapped in her robe, sobbing into her pillowcase while she ordered and belittled Buttercup to do whatever she wanted because she was "her daughter". And it was the least she could do for making the rest of the week a "living hell". It was Buttercup's least favorite day of the week by far.

However, what neither ever discussed was, her mom acted this way because of her dad. Because her mom's grief has never left and she was too weak to hide it from the world. She was not skilled like Buttercup, who shoved all those emotions to the anniversaries of his death instead.

"Second, we can attempt to talk to punks again since they were uncooperative the last time," she continued, turning in her car seat to meet Blossom face to face. "And third being, you need a serious haircut."

"I do not," Blossom protested, running a hand through her long orange hair.

"Blossom. When exactly is the last time you got a haircut?"

"July," she answered, pausing for minute before sighing. "Before I left for MIT."

"Blossom," Bubbles gasped.

Buttercup arched her eyebrow with a grin, "Are you sure you want to say no now?"

"Fine. I'll get a haircut," Blossom replied bitterly.

"Hallelujah."

* * *

Buttercup never liked going to her mom's salon. She had always felt it represented everything she was not. From the subtle lavender wallpaper and the cream-colored furniture in the waiting area to the calming smell of eucalyptus in the air and various pop hits playing over the speakers. It was all too soft. Too soothing and serene. The place contrasted starkly with her brash and impulsive personality. It was no wonder that whenever she stepped foot in the place, Buttercup felt anything but discomfort and dislike.

As the bell above the door chimed, the punks all stopped whatever conversation they were in, turning their attention to see who entered the salon. Each one sat in their own respective space.

Brute was by the eastern wall, sitting in one of the two hairdressing stations—the vacant one belonged to Buttercup's mom. Her counter was organized thoroughly. Different jars were filled with various combs and hairbrushes. Small plastic drawers contained bobby pins, hair clips, and hair ties. A white-washed cabinet was next to her space, holding all of her weapons to style hair. There was also a small cactus on her counter-top, a frame holding a picture of her and her dad at Otto's, another frame holding her hairdressing license, and rainbow flag sticker in the corner of her mirror.

Brat was in the back of the salon where she manned the manicure and pedicure stations all by herself. Her baby blue catty laid right by her feet. The wall beside her held up multiple shelves of nail polishes, varying in different colors of the rainbow; coming in matte, glittery, and transparent finishes.

Berserk was by the western wall. Her station was a large granite counter-top. Different types of high quality makeup brands caught one's eye when they enter. Each placed neatly in labeled compartments. The only pieces of makeup not put away was a tray of lipsticks, ranging in a monochromatic scale of the shade of red. A _Cherry Coke_ can was also on her station. The side stained with a bit of lipstick, which matched one those hues in the tray. Her mirror was outlined by different stickers of a variety of bands Buttercup recognized, only because Butch had played some of their songs before when he was driving in his car with her.

The orange-haired girl elegantly stood from her chair, making her way over to the receptionist desk in front of her station where Buttercup, Blossom, and Bubbles stood. A desk, Buttercup critically acknowledged, where Berserk should have been at when she did not have any customers.

"Welcome to Sedusa's salon," She greeted professionally. Her eyes glanced between the three but settled on Buttercup. A mischievous glint in her eyes as she did this. Her mouth twisted into a amused grin. "May I ask what brings you here today?"

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at her, suspicious of her behavior, "I'm here to check the cash register. She," Buttercup pointed back to Blossom. "Needs a haircut."

"Is that all?" Berserk asked with a false sense of caring. She arched an eyebrow. Her hot pink eyes traveled to Buttercup's nails, shaming her into becoming self conscious on how poorly they appeared. Buttercup watched as Berserk tucked a strand of her orange hair behind her ear. Her blood red nail polish catching the light of the salon, shining in Buttercup's eyes. A message cleverly delivered to her. _Your nails look like shit_ , Buttercup could hear her saying telepathically.

"Actually," Bubbles pitched in, coming at a good time as Buttercup was about to tell Berserk to fuck off. The blonde smiled bashfully as she spoke, "I would like to get a manicure."

"A manicure for one?" Her eyes traveled between the three again, and settling on Buttercup once more. The grin on her face grew more smug. Buttercup figured it must because Berserk could tell she was getting under her skin.

"Yup," Buttercup answered tartly.

"Okay." She tossed her head back to speak towards Brute and Brat. "Brute. Brat. You each have a customer." Soon enough the other two punks were by her side. The two groups eyed each other for a brief second, realizing this was the first time the six of them have ever been alone together.

"Girl, please tell me that I'm doing your hair," Brute spoke, reaching her hand out to Blossom and lifting up the lengthy ends of hair the redhead held on her head.

"You are," Blossom smiled with a friendly tone.

"Then let's get to work," the green-eyed punk grinned, excited about the challenge as she head back to her station along with Blossom.

Berserk stared boredly at her nails, speaking, "You can pick your color from the back shelves. Brat has a sore throat, so she wouldn't be able to speak that much."

It took Bubbles a few seconds to realize Berserk was even addressing her. The blonde's face grew a little red at realizing her mistake.

"Oh," she said loudly. "That will be no problem." Bubbles quickly left the front desk, slightly embarrassed, heading for the back shelves as Brat followed behind her.

Buttercup groaned to herself, realizing she was left with Berserk. She figured the orange-haired girl would leave but she remained at the front desk. Her eyes watched Buttercup attentively. There was a certain darkness swirling behind them. Amusement formulated on her face from something Buttercup did not know about.

She wanted to ask what was Berserk's problem but Buttercup thought against it. There was no need to be impulsive and start a fight simply because Berserk was a total bitch. Instead, she went behind the counter, opening the cash register and making sure the money was organized properly. She took out some dollar bills, counting it in her head.

From the corner of her eye, Buttercup could see Berserk watching her. She was like a shadow behind her.

"How is your mom?" Berserk asked. Her head was propped up by her hand.

The light caught the champagne tinted highlighter on her cheekbones. Her cheeks shined as if it was natural. As if her tan skin was gleaming on its own. Her full, pouty lips were painted a burgundy hue. Her eyelashes too thick to possibly be real but Buttercup knew they had to be and that Berserk simply used a particular mascara masterfully. She wore a plain black tank top and high-waisted jean with ripped holes by her knees. The fabric of her clothing hugged her curves beautifully. This was caused by the fit of her clothes but also because Berserk had the body that the general population of girls seemed to strive for. Thick thighs, a flat stomach, and a not-too-big-but-not-too-small chest. It was as if a guy fantasized the perfect woman, and she was what popped out.

It pissed Buttercup off how beautiful she was. How much effort Berserk put into her looks but it all seemed undemanding to her. She would be gorgeous without it, and she knew this. Instead of being simply beautiful like everyone else, Berserk wanted to be the most beautiful. The most captivating. The one person everyone had their attention on at all times. To be what everyone's eyes were drawn to.

 _What a narcissist_ , Buttercup snorted to herself.

"She's fine," Buttercup responded hastily, annoyed by Berserk's attempt to even speak to her; nonetheless, when she was trying to count money. Her mind already lost track, pushing her to start over again.

"This is the second time this week she skipped out," Berserk added. "It's unusual for her."

Buttercup met Berserk's eyes for a brief second, confused by what she revealed. This may have been the first time Buttercup has ever looked Berserk truly in the eyes at the same time as she did to her. Her hot pink stare giving off an intense reaction. Something about it, made Buttercup feel sick to her stomach. All she could read from it was, Berserk was trouble.

It was a fact Buttercup has always believed but she now knew she could confirm it.

For that reason, Buttercup did not give into Berserk's "concern" about her mother.

"She's sick," Buttercup lied sharply. She hoped her tone would give Berserk the idea to stop talking to her. When she heard Berserk's sickening voice again, Buttercup promptly rolled her eyes.

"Tell her, I hope she gets well soon."

"K."

Berserk chuckled slightly, removing her chin from her hand. She sat up straight, eyeing Buttercup up and down. Her eyes resembled the likes of a cat, in Buttercup's opinion. Shifty and ominous. Too much uncertainty behind them.

She ran a hand through her straightened hair before speaking. An action in which, for some reason, reminded Buttercup of Butch. How he would also run his long fingers through his dark curls for whatever reason he did when speaking. It was a habit Buttercup could not understand why he did it but she grew fond of. She found it to be a lovable quirk of his.

However, when Berserk did it, Buttercup felt as if his quirk was quickly tainted. No longer was she fond of it. Instead, it made her stomach grow more grotesque from Berserk's presence.

"How is that friend of your's? The really tall one?" She asked nonchalantly. Yet, her eyes conveyed a different tone. It was more purposefully. A "gotcha" moment. Buttercup could tell this question has been on Berserk's mind since she walked through the door. The question was, why? "I think his name is Branch?"

"It's Butch," Buttercup said through her teeth. She did not hold back the nasty glare she displayed towards Berserk. Her mind flashed back to Princess' birthday party that was almost two years ago. How close Berserk was to Butch. The intimacy and trust conveyed between the two. But then Berserk did not know his name? It made Buttercup realize she was correct that night. Berserk was only out to use Butch in her game of temptation. That he did not genuinely care about the orange-haired fiend next to her. "And he's fine."

"Really?" She oozed with false interest. Her eyebrows folded together. How her lips pouted together, made Buttercup roll her eyes. This face probably made guys fall to their knees but Buttercup was not fooled by it. She was glad and relieved to know Butch was not either. "That's all you're going to tell me about him?"

"What else do you want to know?" Buttercup snapped quietly, her grip crumbling the few dollar bills in her hands. She had forgotten to start over the first time, overcame by the rally of emotions Berserk was stirring up within her.

Berserk smirked at her reaction, flipping her orange hair over her shoulder. "I don't know… perhaps if he is _single_?" The way she said single felt malicious. As if it was a challenge to Buttercup. The dark-haired girl arched a brow, wondering what exactly did Berserk know. If she knew Butch and her were an item. "I have always found him to be quite cute. Don't you agree?"

 _It was trap_ , Buttercup realized. Berserk knew about them and she was methodically pushing each and every button she had with ease. She was so cunning and jaded. Buttercup was not fully prepared for the mind game that Berserk was playing with her.

"He has a girlfriend," she answered sharply. Buttercup took a step closer to Berserk, using her height as an advantage to intimidate her. The problem was, Berserk was around the same height as her, only one inch shorter, which made them evenly matched as Berserk sat on a stool and Buttercup stood before her. Her icy stare sent chills down Buttercup's spine. With the intense and bold hue of her iris, Buttercup did not expect Berserk to be able to be give off such a menacing look. However, Buttercup did not back down. "A girlfriend he is _very serious_ about."

She watched as there was a small glimmer in Berserk's eyes. Her lips curved into a complaisant smile. She snorted slightly. A noise in which was suppose to be unattractive yet Berserk still made it seem appealing. Nothing about her was repulsive and that frustrated the hell out of Buttercup.

 _Nothing but who she was on the inside_ , Buttercup considered in a way to make herself feel better.

"How disappointing," she replied. "He certainly is missing out."

"From you?" Buttercup scoffed. "Yeah, sure."

"I would not be so obtuse, Buttercup," Berserk said under her breath, her accent becoming more noticeable by this as she risen from the stool. "You're preventing yourself from seeking the truth."

"What are…" Buttercup began but did no finish as Berserk left her side, heading back to her station and plugging in a pair of headphones into her ears.

She gritted her teeth together, enraged by Berserk's remarks. The entire interaction made her dislike for the girl turn into more of a bitter hatred.

Why was Berserk even trying to mess with her head?

Buttercup found it no coincidence Berserk used her mom against her since they were more closer than Buttercup and her mom could ever fathom, but Butch? It was an unexpected uppercut to her ego. Her stomach lurched with the unsettling feeling she got from Berserk.

She thought of anything Berserk might know about Butch, her mind only thought about the night at Princess' Birthday. The only time she has ever seen them speak. One night could not correlate to anything significant, she had decided.

Buttercup glared over to Berserk's direction one more time, finding the girl on her phone. Her head bobbed to the rhythm of the music playing from her headphones. This made Buttercup's mind come to another coincidence she did not relate to at first.

She did not connect how Butch and Berserk seemed to have the same music taste based on the stickers on her mirror. It was not a huge revelation but something within her, told Buttercup there was more to it.

That Berserk was correct.

Somehow, Buttercup was preventing herself from seeing the truth.

She just wanted to know what the truth was...

* * *

 _September 23rd_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"Blossom, I still can't get over your haircut," Bubbles raved from behind the wheel as they crossed over the line for Citiesville's city limits. "Brute did such a great job."

"Thanks," Blossom beamed, petting the freshly cut edges of her hair.

Brute had taken the length of the redhead's hair from her waist to just above her shoulder blades in a blunt chop. She also framed Blossom's face, giving her wispy bangs that complimented her oval-shaped face. The haircut seemed to rejuvenate Blossom, taking away the added years her lengthy hair had given her.

Buttercup loved the haircut just as much as Bubbles, and would tell Blossom she did later. At moment, she was still brewing over her conversation with Berserk. It was exactly what the orange-haired girl wanted. To get inside Buttercup's head and fester there. Buttercup knew Berserk was not a good person and probably did this for the hell of it but she could not shake the feeling it was personal. Berserk held some type of resent or loathing towards Buttercup, and while the feeling was mutual, she could not think of a reason for why Berserk would treat her this way. The entire thing was troublesome and it was making her even more pissed off.

Her anger must have reflected off of her face because next thing she knew, Bubbles had pullover the car by some gas station, turning to her with concern.

"Is everything okay?" The blonde asked delicately. "You haven't spoken that much since we left the salon."

Buttercup inhaled sharply, tossing her eyes out the window bitterly. She focused her attention on the metal rusting around the old gas pump.

"It's nothing. I just had an unpleasant conversation with Berserk and I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it."

"Berserk?" Blossom exasperated from the backseat.

Buttercup twisted herself in the passenger seat, craning her neck to stare down Blossom. Her dark eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. Her… Why the reaction?"

"Nothing," the redhead said quickly. Too quickly. "I'm just surprised she talked to you. Out of all the punks, she is the most difficult to work with it seems."

"Blossom's right," Bubbles agreed. "Also between the three, she's the scariest. At least Brute seems cool and Brat is just a follower most of the time. Berserk is… _unpredictable_ , I guess."

Blossom nodded at the blonde before turning back to Buttercup, "What did she want? Did she say anything about the lake?"

"No. I actually forgot to ask her about any of that," she admitted sheepishly.

"I did too," Bubbles chimed, making Buttercup feel better about her lapse in memory. "And it wasn't like Brat was going to be to talk anyways." The blond glanced at Blossom. "Did Brute open up?"

"I tried bringing it up but all she said was that the lake freaks her out. Before I could ask her why, she turned on the blow dryer to tune me out," Blossom explained dejectingly. "But what else would Berserk have to discuss with you?"

"She asked me about my mom first," Buttercup revealed with spite. "But then she brought up Butch for some reason."

"Butch?" Blossom asked curiously. Her eyebrows folded together.

She seemed to be in thought as to why Berserk would possibly discuss Butch based on her expression alone. However, Buttercup could see that Blossom's eyes did not follow the same suit. Instead, they remained clear with a slight strain of panic.

"Yeah," Buttercup mumbled. "She apparently thinks he is _quite cute_ ," she mocked, rolling her eyes. "It's whatever."

"So what… do you feel threatened by her?" Bubbles questioned gently after some time. Buttercup snapped her gaze up to the blonde, narrowing her eyes. She watched as Bubbles cower into the driver seat. The coral nail polish she had chosen for her nails matching the color flushing her cheeks.

"Threatened?" She repeated, not just to Bubbles and Blossom but to herself. Was she threatened? Sure, Berserk was absolutely beautiful. There was no denying it. However, she was also a vile person underneath her flawless exterior. Butch would never want or even befriend someone with such an ugly heart like her. He was too golden for the likes of her.

Yet there was a small voice in her head filling her with concern. The small voice, in which, did fall for the trap and was now worried about what Berserk meant.

Buttercup lightened her expression, sighing loudly.

"Should I be threatened by her?" Buttercup inquired, letting down her dense walls for the moment.

Bubbles sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, pondering over the question. Blossom, on the overhand, downcasted her eyes to the pair of flats on her feet. The silence of the car was slowly infuriated Buttercup. She sank her brittle nails into the fabric of her dark-washed jeans, waiting impatiently for an answer.

"No," Bubbles answered after a few minutes. She smiled brightly at Buttercup, gathering their hands together. The coldness of her hands becoming more calming to Buttercup than painful like before. "Butch loves you so much. There is no way he would fall for someone else. Especially Berserk. She just isn't his type at all."

"Berserk and Buttercup do have a lot of similarities," Blossom interjected in a murmur. She winced a little when Bubbles and Buttercup turned to her to explain what she meant. The redhead exhaled tiresomely, "I mean, you're both blunt. You don't put up with anything you both find to be unacceptable. Both of you are immensely beautiful. Then there's the fact that you're both wild cards and don't have a sense of following authority. How both of you keep a distance but once someone gains your trust, you're fiercely loyal to them… You have a lot more in common with her than you think. But, you also have differences too," Blossom shrugged to make things seem more casual. As if this was not an analytic explanation she has kept inside her for a few days now. It was suppose to come out as if she made this connection all on the fly. Luckily for her, Buttercup and Bubbles fell for it. "So I just wouldn't say Berserk isn't his type."

"Okay…" Buttercup said, taking in Blossom's comparisons. She did not want to believe any of it. Her and Berserk? Similar? Hell no. She would never believe such a thing. Why would Blossom even say those things? Buttercup stared into Blossom's rose-colored eyes, "So you think I should be threatened then?"

Blossom pursed her lips, hesitating to answer the question. She drummed her fingers lightly against the pale skin peeking out of the sundress she wore.

She then inhaled sharply, looking out the on window to avoid Buttercup's gaze.

"You shouldn't worry about her," Blossom answered slowly.

Buttercup nodded, glad that her friends were there to reassure her. She felt her mouth turn upward at the corners. The relief in her expressed thoroughly. The tiny voice raising it's concern slowly faded away.

She had nothing to worry about. Butch loves her, and she loves him. That was it.

* * *

When they got to the Vegetable Table, Bubbles was bouncing with anxiousness. She fiddled with her blonde curls. A radiating coldness surrounded her entire body. As they entered the restaurant, a dirty blond male greeted them at the host stand. With his eyes on Bubbles, the nervousness within her dissipated.

"Well hello there," the male grinned warmly. Buttercup figured this must have been the guy that Bubbles was seeing. Her and Blossom tossed a knowing glance between themselves, examining him thoroughly together.

He was not what Buttercup pictured. Maybe she was biased because of Boomer but she has always saw Bubbles ending up with him or at least, someone who looked similar to him. This guy, instead, was the total opposite of Boomer.

There was no sharp edges to his face like Boomer had. His face was more soft and less serious. There was a certain warmth radiating from his dark eyes. There was a clarity that they held. His soul was exposed for all to see. It was biggest difference from Boomer, because, despite his ocean blue eyes seeming boundless open for all, he always kept everything within him. The blond never trusted anyone enough to explore the ocean inside of him.

The guy was also shorter than the males Buttercup was used to. He was above average in appearance but not jaw dropping. There was nothing truly remarkable about him, in Buttercup's opinion; yet she could not help but see why Bubbles would be attracted to him.

It was not his looks necessarily, but how he held himself. She could tell the guy was simply happy with his life and it carried over in his presences. Perhaps that was why Bubbles liked him. He was the only person who could match her overload of happiness.

"Guys," Bubbles inhaled, smiling softly and gesturing towards the blond male. "This is Mike." She pointed to Buttercup and then Blossom, "And this is Buttercup and Blossom."

"It's great to finally meet you both," he grinned, extending his hand out to Blossom and following the same action to Buttercup. "I've heard so much about these incredible girls that Bubbles called her best friends. It's nice to put a face to the name."

"I wish I could say the same but Bubbles just told us about you literally three hours ago," Buttercup grinned as the blonde elbowed her side.

"Buttercup," she exasperated quietly.

Mike chuckled, shaking his head slightly, "That sounds like Bubbles. If I proposed, she probably wouldn't tell you that we're engaged until the wedding date."

Buttercup widened her eyes, shocked by his boldness but could not hide her laughter. Blossom did the same as Bubbles grew a bright red.

"I'm starting to regret bringing you," she muttered.

"Aw Bubs," Blossom cooed, rubbing her hand against the blonde's shoulder to comfort her. "It's alright."

"Well this got awkward," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Mike cleared his throat, grabbing three menus. "Shall I escort you lovely ladies to your table?"

"Yes," Blossom answered for the three of them.

Mike sat them in a table by the television mounted onto a wall. A documentary about the first human civilizations droned on above them. Blossom took the seat facing the television as she was actually intrigued by what it was saying. Buttercup took the seat next to her, while Bubbles took the one facing Buttercup.

Before Bubbles sat down, Mike wrapped his arms around her, kissing the crown of her head. Bubbles returned the hug, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Whatever embarrassment she felt a moment ago, faded away.

Buttercup felt a moment of panic because of how Bubbles must have felt like a popsicle in Mike's arms and he was bound to question it, but the blondes pulled apart, staying in each other's arms, neither of them even mentioning Bubbles' body temperature.

"If I get too out of hand, let me know," he said softly to her. It took a lot of focus for Buttercup to be able to hear him speak to her. "This type of stuff freaks me out so much."

"You're fine," she giggled lightly. Her fingers ran along his broad shoulders. "I was being a little too sensitive."

"No. I was being kind of a dick."

"No, you weren't," Bubbles reassured. "And don't be nervous. They'll love you."

"I hope so," he mumbled under his breath. "I like you so much, Bubbles. I don't want to mess this up—I mean, my hands are sweating so much because I can't stop thinking that your friends will hate me."

"If they hate you, then I obviously need to get new friends," she joked.

Buttercup watched as Bubbles made Mike's anxiousness disappear. It was similar to the way he did for her when they first entered. He smiled bashfully at her. His eyes melted at the sight of Bubbles as she did the same. He gave her a quick peck on the lips before letting her go.

"My break is in twenty minutes," he began, laying the menus out on the table for them. "I'll come and join you then. Other than that, I will be back for your orders in a few minutes," Mike grinned professionally before leaving the table.

A silence fell between the three. Each exchanging glances between one another. They waited for the first one to speak up.

Blossom ended up being the person to crack.

"I like him," she smiled with a genuine tone. "He seems kind of awkward but it's more of in an adorable sense. He also reminds me of a _Carebear_ for some reason _."_

Buttercup snorted loudly at Blossom's comparison. "Nice one, Bloss."

"What about you?" Bubbles asked eagerly towards Buttercup.

She shrugged her shoulders, "He seems fine… I like how you both calm each other down," Buttercup remarked, thinking of Butch. "That's a hard thing to find in a relationship."

"Oh, god," Bubbles beamed. "I can't believe you both like him."

"Of course we would like him," Blossom said, grabbing Bubbles' hand. "You have an amazing judge of character."

"She's got a point," Buttercup agreed, joining in on the affection they were sharing, grabbing Blossom's hand with hers.

They grew mum again. This time, none of them wanting to say anything. Instead, they wanted to take in the moment. Take in on how much they appreciated each other.

Other than Butch, Buttercup knew she would never have a relationship stronger than the friendship she had with the two girls she considered to be her sisters.

She would always love them, and she knew they would always love her. That was biggest strength of their friendship.

* * *

 _September 19th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _One week ago..._

Buttercup could not remember the last time she stepped foot in her attic. It must have been when her dad was alive because everything in the space was full of dust and cobwebs. The single light bulb used to illuminate the room flickered for a few seconds before burning out. She was happy it was at least daytime so the small window in the room gave her some light.

She looked through the bins, looking for anything significant to keep. After the fight her and her mom had about Buttercup moving out, neither have said a word about it. Buttercup hoped this meant her mom had changed her mind since she had done the same. But in case her mom has not, Buttercup decided she should see if there was anything in the attic she would want to take.

Instead, all she found was garbage. Old textbooks her dad had collected. The pages turned a yellowish beige from the time spent untouched. A few mirrors from Sedusa's salon before it was remodeled seven years ago. Beauty products from the eighties and nineties taking up three different bins. A crib from Buttercup's nursery and various stuff animals filled one corner of the space. The animals had a melancholic stare at Buttercup, longing to be picked up and played with again.

Buttercup took in a deep breath, accepting that there was not anything relevant for her in the space. She made her way to the exit when her foot tripped over a book. Buttercup had caught herself midair, confused by the leather-backed book that she must have looked over.

She reached down, wrapping her fingers firmly around it's spine. The pages distributed dust into the air as she flipped through the book. Buttercup coughed slightly, realizing this was not a book.

It was journal containing her father's handwriting.

Buttercup examined the sloppy writing she had grown up reading, analyzing what her dad wrote about.

Most of the pages were disjointed. None of the phrases he used made sense. It seemed to also be written in a foreign language that Buttercup could not recognize. Only a few words were in English. On some pages, there were drawings. One of a red moon. Of fire and water. Smoke and lightning. Ice. A clock. The earth.

The word illusion was used various times, congruent with nightmares. Speed and invisible were repeated often too.

A drawing of a person screaming stood out in a corner. Their eyes popping out of their head as a dark smoke consumed them.

On the final page, Buttercup found a section of writing that she was able to translate. Her green eyes grew a little misty from the date at the top of the page.

 **March 28th**

 **It has all happened before. Years and years of suffering for one cause. Chaos will stop at nothing to return. I fear that I may find myself on the receiving end. My research has grown too dangerous over the past fifteen years. The darkness looming together once again for when it chooses a new group to torture. A group that I believe will finally give Him what he wants…**

 **The blood moon will carry out the same routine but this time, it will work. My successors will gain control of the mysterious elements within them unlike my colleagues and I. Unlike those before us for the past ninety-five years.**

 **I have to find a way to stop Him or the world will collapse under his reign. A world I do not want to expose my dear daughter to…**

 **Sedusa says I should stop my obsession before it gets me killed. Before Him finds out how close I am. She thinks I should say quiet like her and the others.**

 **I'm sorry my love, but there are certain things I cannot give up on. Him needs to be stopped. If not…**

 **God save us all.**

Buttercup did not realize how heavily captivated she was in the journal entry until she saw a teardrop land on the page, smearing the ink of the pen. Her body shook intensely from the shock-waves of thoughts running through her mind.

 _It has all happened before…_

Before she knew it, Buttercup exited the attic, heading straight for the kitchen. Her eyes stared at her mom as if she had betrayed her. As if her mom had betrayed her father.

"What is this?" She said rapidly, slamming the journal on the counter separating themselves from each other. Her breathing coming out uneasily. Her chest rising and falling at a dangerous pace.

Her mom glanced at the journal. Panic struck her face.

"Where did you find that?" Sedusa asked venomously, narrowing her lime green eyes at her daughter.

"In the attic."

"Why were—"

"Answer my question, mom," Buttercup said through her teeth, leaning forward against the counter-top.

"You already know the answer to that question," Sedusa replied bitterly.

"You're right." Buttercup arched an eyebrow, accepting her mom's game of cat and mouse. "I think a better question would be, what the hell does this mean?" She flipped to the last page. The journal entry written the day before her dad's death. "What did you and dad get yourselves into?"

Her expression softened for a second, "I…" With the realization of what she was about to reveal, Sedusa hardened her stare at Buttercup. Her thin eyebrows furrowing together, "I'm not discussing this with a child."

"Child?" Buttercup exasperated, going around the counter to stand right beside her mom. Her stature gaining the advantage of height as her mom was five inches shorter than her. "I'm fucking nineteen. It's about the same time you got pregnant with me."

"And what a mistake that was," her mom scoffed, taking a step back from Buttercup and exiting the kitchen.

Buttercup followed her out, forming tight fists at her sides.

"How could dad ever want to marry someone like you? How could he ever love someone as vile as you?" Buttercup paused, noticing her mom glancing back at her with tears streaming down her face. The dark-haired girl dug her nails more into the palms of her hands. "How could he leave me with you? You have never loved me. I wish… I wish it wasn't him that…"

Her mom took a step closer to her. Stains of black mascara ran down her high-cheekbones. The dark streaks contrasted with the snowy white skin of her mom.

"You don't understand, Buttercup. You don't understand what it is like to live under the same roof with you." Sedusa let out a hoarse breath that turned into a quick sob for a minute. "You remind me so much of him. You have no idea what it is like to love someone with your entire soul, only for them to be snatched away from you. Then all you're left with is their carbon copy. It's the cruelest thing in the world."

"And having a mother who can't love their daughter for those reasons isn't?" Buttercup choked.

Sedusa hesitated. Her green eyes studied her daughter attentively.

For a second, Buttercup thought she was going to say she did love her. That despite it all, Sedusa just has a hard time expressing the love she had for her daughter.

"It isn't," her mom murmured. "You're going to get yourself killed like him and I'm not going to have two people I love be taken from me. Your father was enough."

With that said, Sedusa turned on her heel and left Buttercup standing in the entryway of their home.

She was shell-shocked by her mom's words. How deeply they wounded her. Buttercup wondered if she would ever able to recover from the truth that her mom would never love her. But also, from the knowledge that her dad did not die from an accident.

He was murdered.

Her mom knew he was this entire time. There were others in town who did too.

Others who could be like her and her friends.

 _It has all happened before…_

What did this all mean?

How could she tell her friends this without sounding crazy?

Who was Him?

And was this Him person, the one who killed her dad?

* * *

 _September 23rd_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"For only a bunch of vegetables, that place was pretty filling," Buttercup remarked, rubbing her stomach in delight after they settled into Bubbles' car once again.

"I agree," Blossom pitched in from the backseat.

"I'm glad you liked it," Bubbles smiled, turning on the car and pulling out from the parking lot on to the road. "And I'm so happy that everything went well with Mike."

"Me too," Buttercup grinned with a single nod.

During Mike's break, it was Buttercup and Blossom's chance to interrogate him a little. Blossom asked him about his studies and discussed his interest in marine biology. Apparently Blossom watched a documentary about marine life when she first came back to Townsville, which ended up being one of Mike's favorite to watch. The two geeked about the organisms and their abilities for good length of time. When it was Buttercup's turn, she asked him about his past. He told them about his parents' divorce and his uneventful high school experience.

From what Buttercup could concluded on Mike's personality was, he was a giant dork with a mushy heart. He was warm, kind, open, and self-assured.

Other than being kind, he was the exact opposite from Boomer.

When Bubbles said goodbye to Mike by herself, Blossom and Buttercup both shared the silent acknowledgement that Boomer would seemed to never have a chance with Bubbles. They both were devastated for their friend but they also could not help being happy for Bubbles. It was a sticky situation for the two, which was why, they also mutually came to the understanding that they would not bring up Mike to Boomer until Bubbles did. They did not need to make things more complicated between their blonde friends.

Bubbles tapped her fingers against her steering wheel as they approached a stop light. The orange rays of the sun illuminated the platinum strands of her hair. Her head becoming an ivory waterfall of curls.

The beauty of hair sharply contrasted the panic striking across her face. Her icy blue eyes full of fear.

"So… How exactly are we suppose to stop the Gangreen Gang?" She murmured. Her voice trembled slightly.

Her fingers began to leave icy crystals on her steering wheel. The beat of her fingers cracked into the thin layer of ice, only to be replaced soon afterward.

"I think we should call the guys," Blossom suggested.

"Why? What would that do?" Buttercup scoffed, twisting in her seat to stare Blossom down. "Butch has no clue how to trigger his powers. Boomer is against anything that involves action. All he wants to do is to be a sitting duck, waiting for the answers to come to us. Then Brick is… _Actually_ , Brick may be helpful. You know," Buttercup narrowed her eyes at the redhead. Her tone grew cold. " _If he was trustworthy and had powers_."

"What do you mean by that?" Blossom questioned, taken back by Buttercup's hostility. Her nails pressed into the creamy white skin of her thighs.

Buttercup took a sharp inhale, glancing between Blossom and Bubbles. She lightened her expression, realizing how strongly she was coming off. If she was going to approach her suspicions about Brick to Blossom, Buttercup needed to be considerate and not rush to the first thing that popped in her head.

She exhaled, rolling her eyes, "I know he lied to Butch about you and him not being able to be together since Butch saw you holding his hand at the bar." Buttercup shrugged her shoulders to seem less intimidating, "I don't know if it was a mutual secret for you two or he was trying to keep you a secret."

Blossom pursed her lips as a tense silence filled the car. The sound of the gravel road under them was amplified ever-so-slightly, making every second that passed seem even longer than it was.

"We…" Blossom sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm not necessarily sure if we're together _together_ yet but we're close to it."

"Wait. You've kissed him yet?" Bubbles asked excitedly, glancing back at Blossom through her rear-view mirror.

"Yeah, I have," the redhead answered, unable to suppress the smile spreading across her lips nor the soft pink shade tinting her cheeks. "So many times that I think I enjoy it way too much for it to be healthy."

"I don't know. I think I was the same way with Mike after we kissed the first time," Bubbles giggled.

"Heh," Buttercup snorted bitterly. "If that's so, then why did he lie to Butch about it?"

Blossom shrugged her shoulders. Her face giving off the perfect picture of cluelessness but Buttercup knew better. The redhead had some type of knowledge on anything containing Brick nowadays, which was why the green-eyed girl could not understand why Blossom was going along with his lie.

"I never told him to nor did I think he would, so that's a question for Brick," Blossom deflected.

"That makes another of the plenty questions I have for him," she replied spitefully, forgetting her calculated approach. If only Buttercup was not guided so easily by emotions and thought about her responses instead of saying the first thing that popped in her head.

"Buttercup, what is your problem with Brick?" The redhead asked defensively. Buttercup noticed the slight tremble of panic in Blossom's voice.

 _She was hiding something_ , Buttercup rationalized over and over again in her mind. It made her question if Blossom was trustworthy too. Sure, Butch did point out that Blossom had no reason to lie but she could withhold certain truths. Therefore, if Blossom was capable of protecting Brick, what else was she keeping to herself?

"Nothing," Buttercup answered briskly. "I just get weird vibes from him sometimes. That's all."

"Not to be rude or anything but have you ever had a conversation with him?" Blossom asked cautiously. "He's had a pretty rough go at everything. It's why he's so standoffish."

"Yeah, sure. That's what it is," she brushed off. The dark-haired girl slumped her shoulders, realizing just how deep Blossom was in with Brick. It sickened her greatly to know the redhead was protecting the person who was the pyro. The idea went against everything Blossom stood for. "But um… back to the Gangreen Gang."

"Right," Bubbles replied uneasily. "How do we stop them?"

"Maybe if we get evidence of their crimes?" Blossom suggested.

"Please. Everyone in Townsville knows that the Gangreen Gang does anything that is classified illegal," Buttercup dismissed.

"They do. But they don't know who exactly is in the Gang and also what it is that they actually do," the redhead continued on with a cleaver smile. "We get some solid evidence of their involvement and they'll have to back off."

Buttercup snorted, "Blossom, that's…" Her light green eyes widened, "That's actually a pretty good of a plan."

"You gotta work smarter, not harder, girls," she beamed.

* * *

The Gangreen Gang bar was a totally dump. Buttercup could not believe Butch used to willingly hang out there a few years ago.

It was a fact that her boyfriend has still neglected to inform her fully about.

The more she thought about it, Buttercup did not know much about the period of time where she and Butch spent away from each other. He rarely spoke about it and when he did, Butch only said it was a complicated phase for him.

Complicated could mean a lot, Buttercup was slowly realizing. It made her think of Blossom's vision. Butch and her were destined to break up over a lie he would make but what exactly was he keeping from her? And was it really worth breaking up over? Maybe now that she knew he was keeping a secret, it would lessen her reaction to it. Perhaps she would not break up with him on impulse because she knew it was coming.

"Hey, you good?" Bubbles said in a low tone to her, elbowing Buttercup's side to gain her attention.

Buttercup snapped out of her thoughts, nodding her head a little aggressively, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Just spaced out a little."

"I thought that was my thing," Blossom joked quietly, gaining a chuckle from her two friends. They then scanned the grimy space that was Taipan, figuring the best plan for them. "We should divide and conquer to find Ace. If we can get his key to his office, then we have the evidence we need to shut them down."

"Sounds good," Bubbles approved. A fierce determination gleamed off of her baby blue eyes. No longer did she seem like the nervous girl that she was in the car an hour ago. Buttercup figured it must be the adrenaline of being in the field.

Bubbles has always been better as a doer than a thinker.

Buttercup gave a single nod to Blossom and Bubbles before disappearing into the rough crowd that Taipan consisted of. Her eyes shifted slyly across the dark space with no avail. Ace was nowhere to be found. She made her way to the poorly made and damaged bar, signaling for the bartender. Perhaps he would know something.

The bartender held up a finger, telling her to wait a moment as he went the other direction away from her. Buttercup sighed disappointingly, taking a seat in a nearby stool as she waited.

She began considering if this was a mistake. Her brash decision to get rid of Ace and the thorny pain that was the Gangreen Gang seemed less and less intelligent as time went on. It was just another one of her ill thought out plans made on the fly. Buttercup simply hoped for the least interesting to happen if her plan was not made to work.

"Buttercup Utonium…"

Buttercup felt the hairs on her neck rise at her name being breathed behind her ear. Her body shuddered slightly from alertful electric impulses charging their veins. A warning sign for her body to be careful.

She sunk her teeth in her bottom lip to cover up the scowl she wanted to give him as she turned her head to a degree to find Ace standing right behind her.

"Ace Copular," she responded neutrally.

Buttercup arched her dark eyebrow as she took in the greenish tint of his skin. _Side effect_ , she reminded herself. Butch had informed them on how Ace's side effect had turned his skin green. The lanky teen appeared sickly with a menacing sense.

"What brings you here?" He asked with a mischievous smirk. His question was a disguise, Buttercup figured. A lead into something else he had in his disturbed mind. Ace leaned closer to her, his lips brushing up against her ear. "This isn't your type of place, babe."

Buttercup had to resist the urge to punch him in the gut. Or to electrocute him right then and there.

Instead, she kept a poker face, oozing out the sense of being aloof.

"Change of scenery."

He chuckled slightly. His bony hand rested itself on her shoulder blade. Buttercup could feel the electric heat of anger rising in her body. She curled up her fists to avoid the static rippling through her fingertips from being seen.

"Or something else," he teased darkly. His face becoming simply centimeters away from her's. Her eyes traced the bleak blackness of his pupils as he did not have his shades on for once. His thin lips tugged up greatly, smiling widely with joy. "Butch isn't cutting it out for you, isn't he? Too soft for a tough girl like you, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she grumbled through her teeth, retracting her face away from him. Her eyebrows furrowed aggressively as she decided to not play coy anymore.

"I know you're with him, Buttercup," Ace replied nonchalantly. "It's quite pathetic actually— _your relationship_." He came closer to her again, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. A moment in which would have been tender in any other situation but was not since Ace was staring at her like a deranged sociopath. "You have no clue what he has done or what he is going to do."

"Ace, you need to back off," Buttercup threatened, gripping on Ace's fragile hand and crushing it with all the pressure she could muster.

He winced a bit from the pain, sucking in a deep breath before speaking again.

"I'm only looking out for you, babe," he promised. Buttercup knew better than to believe him though. Trusting anything Ace had to say, was like trusting the devil himself. Ace narrowed his eyes at her. A flash of anger striking the dark abyss that was his eyes. It would be the only time Buttercup has ever seen any sort of life in his eyes. "Your boyfriend? He's not what you think he seems. Nor is he true to what you want. He doesn't love you, Buttercup. It's best if you end it with him now before things get out of control for you."

Buttercup rose from her stool, twisting Ace's arm behind his back in a swift motion. Her grip tightening as she stood behind him. She murmured against his ear venomously. "Quit the bullshit, Ace. I'm not here to be distracted by some fantasy you have cooked up in your messed up head."

"It's not—Ahhhh!" Ace howled in pain as Buttercup twisted his arm some more.

"I'm going to make this quick," she demanded. "I already know about your powers, and I'm sure you're aware of mine. Correct?" Ace nodded in fright as his lip quivered from the intense pain he felt. Buttercup grinned at his answer. "Great. Then you know I'm capable of frying your entire body right here. But I'm not going to do that. Instead, you're going to lead me to your little office without any fuss from your goons. Got it?" He nodded again with a hateful stare towards the dark-haired girl. "Perfect."

When him leading her through the bar, Buttercup had caught the attention of Bubbles who soon joined her side and texted Blossom to alert her. Ace remained in her hold, stopping by a door in the back in which was guarded by two men Buttercup did not recognize. They must have gone to South Townsville instead.

"Ace, what the—"

"They're here for a meeting," he grumbled to his lackeys. "If a annoying redhead girl shows up, let her in."

With that said, the two moved away from the door, allowing the girls and Ace to enter his office. Buttercup and Bubbles did not have time to observe the space as they both knew they had to contain Ace from using his powers now that they were alone.

"Bubs, freeze his hands together," Buttercup ordered as soon as the door closed.

"Got it," the blonde nodded. She placed his two hands together, letting her cold touch to crystallize around his green skin. In a one minute length, his hands were froze solid together.

"How clever," Ace deadpanned. He rolled his eyes as they placed him in a chair in front of his desk. "And I suppose you're going to question me about the Gangreen Gang? Or the night at the lake? Didn't I do this already with Butch?"

"Nope," Buttercup grinned with satisfaction. She propped herself up to take a seat on his desk. "You're going to tell us where to find any evidence to take the Gangreen Gang down."

Ace stared at her blankly for a good thirty seconds before bursting out in a heavy laughter. Droplets of tears formed in his eyes from amusement, unable to be wiped away due his hands being restrained.

After some time, Ace seemed to settle himself down, opening his mouth to speak but was interrupted with the door opening. Blossom popped her head in, raising an eyebrow at seeing Ace's hands frozen together and closed the door behind her as she entered. She slid next to Bubbles silently as Buttercup and Ace continued to interacted.

"You're not exactly the brightest person, are you?" Ace mocked.

"Really? I'm not the one with my hands completely frozen," she retorted. "By the way, I hope you wouldn't have to lose them from hypothermia."

Ace smiled wickedly at her, "Trust me. I'm good." Buttercup opened her mouth to ask what he meant but Ace spoke before her, "But as for you. I'm afraid I not much of a talker. Underneath all this handsome and smooth bravado, I'm actually pretty shy," he ridiculed.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, getting more and more annoyed by everything Ace was doing. Her mind searched for the best way to get him to comply. She selected the first thing that popped up in her head despite how controversial it would be.

"Ace. You either give us some evidence or I will electrocute you until you do," she threatened without flinching.

"Buttercup!" Bubbles gasped in shock.

"Absolutely not," Blossom frowned, stepping away from Bubbles and standing in front of Buttercup. "We are not going to torture him."

"Why not?" she argued. "He's a murderer, for fuck sake Blossom. If this was the other way around, he would not hesitate to kill us."

"She's not wrong, _Strawberry Shortcake_ ," Ace chimed in from behind her.

Blossom ignored him, focusing her attention on Buttercup. "I don't care. Doing something like that, makes us no better than him. Worst thing we can do is lose our sense of self in all of this."

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at Blossom, unpleased by her logic. If Blossom was so worried about them staying morally correct, then she should not be protecting Brick. Hearing Blossom attempting to act all high and mighty despite the incriminating decisions she has been making, made Buttercup's blood boil. Her mind went blank from any rational thoughts as she let her outrage take control of her.

"Please," Buttercup snorted, standing up from the desk. Her height allowing her to tower over Blossom as she jabbed her shoulder. "You're such a hypocrite."

"What?" Blossom questioned with genuine confusion.

Ace chuckled in the background, turning his head to Bubbles. "Man, I love it when chicks fight. Best form of entertainment."

The blonde simply glared at him before going back to Blossom and Buttercup. "Guys, come on. There's no need to fight."

"But there is," Buttercup exclaimed with a crazed expression. "She's only saying this because she's with _him_."

"Excuse me?"

"Buttercup, what are you talking about?" Bubbles pleaded. "You're not making any sense."

"It's quite simple, Bubs," she explained. "Blossom, here, wants us to spare Ace because she's into protecting those who are a menace to society."

"Buttercup, I'm not protecting anyone."

"Yeah, you are. Ace is no better than your fucking boyfriend. They both are destroying Townsville and probably wouldn't stop until it's dust in the desert."

"What are you…" Bubbles trailed off. In a few short moments, a sobering realization reflected off of her baby blue eyes. She stared at Blossom with a saddened expression. "Blossom, please tell me this isn't true. _Please_."

The redhead stared at the flats on her feet, "Bubs, I…" she trailed off, unable to continue on with an answer.

" _See_ ," Buttercup pointed out. "She cannot even try to deny it. You're boyfriend is the fucking pyro. He's going to burn down City Hall. He's probably working with the shadow and you knew all of this, didn't you? You're so fucking obsessed with him," she spat out venomously. Her mouth hovered over Blossom's ear. "Next time you want to attack me, try to make sure you aren't the one in the wrong because if you ask me, you're the one who has lost themselves in all of this. All for a fucking guy... I hope Brick is worth it, Bloss."

"What was that?" Ace smiled excitedly. His eyebrows raised at Buttercup's quiet but heated comment. "Did you just say Brick is the pyro?"

Buttercup widened her eyes, her rational mind returning as she came to the realization that Ace was still in the room. That she just gave him the one single source of information he has been terrorizing Townsville for.

"Well I—"

Ace chuckled darkly to himself, his shoulders swaying from side to side, "You know, I already had intel that it was him. I didn't believe it though. Unreliable source and all. But hearing it come from your sweet lips, honey? Well I have to believe it," he grinned devilishly as a smoke cloud trailed up in the air from his hands. A puddle of water dripped onto the hardwood floors of his office. The lanky teen rose from the chair, letting a thick gas out of the palm of his hand.

The girls did not have time to question how he was able to escape as they each tried to resist breathing in the toxic air spreading in the small office space. They rushed for the door but found it unable to budge.

"The great thing about having the ability to command gas, is that if I produce enough, it can spread out the atoms around me. I basically can evaporate a polar cap if I wanted to. Granted, it would have to be a small one, but a polar cap is a polar cap," Ace explained with an arrogant grin. "The icicle handcuffs were a cute idea, girls." He tilted his head to a degree, allowing the gas from his hand to intensify. Bubbles began to cough greatly as Buttercup threw up on the ground. Both were unable to use their respective powers as they were too physically weak to do so. Blossom tried to blink back the tears forming in her eyes but had no relief. "Too bad I have to kill all of now. You all were honestly some of the hottest babes I've ever seen." Ace shrugged his shoulders, "But I guess it's better to die young and leave a beautiful corpse."

In a matter of seconds, Buttercup could feel the life being sucked out of her. Her body reacting negatively as it should to the fumes. Her throat was getting caught on the emission of puke, choking her.

This was it. She was going to die right here. In a grimy street gang bar, choking on her own vomit besides two of her favorite people. The two people who she led into this trap by Ace.

Their deaths would be all her fault.

Why did she have to fuck everything up?

* * *

"Buttercup, what are you talking about?" Bubbles asked. "You're making—"

"Hold on," Ace interrupted before wincing as he felt a great pain swirling in his head. His eyes narrowed at the blond. "I swear, you've already said that."

"I… yeah, I have," she thought out loud in confusion. Her eyes snapped over to Blossom, groaning slightly as the motion frustrated the intense pressure she felt in her mind. "Did you–"

"I did," the redhead answered swiftly, turning away from Buttercup and now facing Ace.

"Why would you do that?" Buttercup questioned, rubbing her temple as she felt an extreme pounding against her skull. Blossom's migraines must have passed on to them with the time travel.

"Something bad will happen in a minutes from now but maybe if I…"

She did not finish her sentence. Instead, she grazed her finger against Ace's skin. Her face grew blank from his touch.

* * *

 _Date Unknown_

 _Location Unknown_

 _Time Unknown…_

Ace cowered more and more. Deeper into the shadows of the alleyway. A thin-lipped, sheepish expression formed on his face. Droplets of sweat were developing across his forehead. His pulse intensifying a million degrees.

A single dark thought paced through his wicked mind.

 _You're going to die…_

He swallowed hard, bumping his bony back into a brick wall. A faint thump escaped from behind him. He raised his hands up, signaling no harm.

"Now come on. What I did, it was unforgivable but come on? You saw the position I was in," Ace pleaded anxiously. The beating of his heart grew louder and louder in his ears. His skull pounded greatly from the swirling fear traveling throughout his body. This would be so much easier if Him had not stripped him of his powers. If Ace still had his soul left. "If I could, I would take it back."

"But you can't," they said venomously through their teeth. Their face unable to be seen clearly due to the dim lighting of the alleyway.

"So what–so what are you going to…" he gulped again. "What are you going to do?"

There was a devilish glint in their eyes. A expression so evil, Ace had only seen it conveyed through Him.

The demon must be proud. His prime associate was more like him than the rest of them.

"You were right," they chuckled darkly. "What you did... _it was unforgivable_."

In one swift movement, Ace winced loudly in pain. His shades falling to the ground as he threw his head back into the brick wall. Dark eyes observed the large and sharp knife piercing him in the lower abdomen.

The person in front of him twisted the knife inside of him, looming closer to Ace.

The Gangreen Gang leader began to choke up some blood, spitting up the bodily fluid on his pointy chin.

"A knife?" Ace hissed. "What? You couldn't…" he groaned loudly, making himself succumb to the pain stricken to his body. However, it did not stop him from flashing a mocking grin. His teeth masked by a crimson hue. "You couldn't find anything better? How weak and uninteresting."

"Which is the perfect way to describe you," they retorted, twisting the knife some more, producing Ace to cough up more blood. "A perfect way to end your pathetic life too."

Ace shook his head, letting out a weak, malevolent laugh. His eyes grew duller and duller with the conversation.

"You're only doing this to take over," he choked out. "You want the Gang all to yourself."

"It certainly is a benefit," they thought out loud. "But this was purely because you deserve it."

"Heh. Then you should know..." Ace whispered as they pulled out the knife. His slim body slid down to the ground of the alleyway. Blood began to flow out of his body, accumulating in a dark and sticky puddle next to him. A metallic smell infected the air, becoming inescapable.

The person crouched down next to him, unable to resist the curiosity they had to what Ace had to say.

Ace reached out for the collar of their shirt but was too weak to get a good grip. A wicked smile remained on his face.

"You're… going… to … end up… like me..." Ace murmured as the space around him grew darker in sight.

The person stared at him silently. They did so for a few minutes. They waited patiently until Ace took his last breath. Until the Gangreen Gang leader's body become nothing more than a lifeless twig.

They then reached into their pocket, pulling out their phone. Dialing a number and rising from their spot, they left the alleyway. Once their call was accepted, they had one single thing to say.

" _It has been done_."

* * *

 _September 23rd_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"Um. What's wrong with the ginger?" Ace asked, shifting his eyes between Bubbles and Buttercup.

"She's having a vision," Buttercup huffed, folding her arms.

"A vision? What is she? _That's so Raven_?"

"No," Blossom said quietly as her consciousness came back to her. She arched an eyebrow, taking a step away from Ace. "It's called having chronokinesis."

"And how the hell is you having a vision going to help us?" The dark-haired girl questioned bitterly.

"Because we can save Ace," Blossom replied neutrally.

"What?" Buttercup, Bubbles, and Ace questioned loudly in unison.

"Why would we want to do that?" Bubbles exasperated. "He could kill us."

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, the hint of a secret gleaming through her eyes. "Someone is going to murder you soon. They're going to stab you and let you bleed out in an alleyway. This person is going to be a member of the Gangreen Gang."

"That's bullshit," Ace retorted. "They wouldn't…" he groaned loudly, frustration overcoming his facial expressions. "Who am I kidding? They would fucking do that."

The redhead glanced over to Buttercup meeting her eyes. In silence, Buttercup instantly understood what Blossom was going to bargain. She knew the redhead was too good to threaten Ace. Therefore, it was her time to step up.

"However," Buttercup chimed. "If you sell out your friends here and give us some evidence to shut down the entire Gangreen Gang without any attempts to kill us, then we can help you escape and no one has to know where you went. Your life will be spared from death and also prison."

"Are you sure about this?" Bubbles whispered. "What if he isn't true to the deal?"

"Then Blossom will just reverse time to make sure we never come tonight. Therefore, your death will become inevitable since you never had the chance to avoid it," Buttercup thought up quickly. She did not even resist the urge to hide the satisfaction she felt from her plan. "So what will it be?"

"You know I could just kill all of you right now," he acknowledged, meeting Blossom's eyes as a way to indicate that he knew why she reversed time.

"Yeah, you could. And no one will probably care about me and Bubs dying—"

"Hey!" Bubbles exclaimed, crossing her arms. "People would care if I died."

Buttercup inhaled sharply, ignoring the blonde's input, "But if you kill Ms. Bellum's precious only child? You think we're bad, then you already know that she is about thousand times worse than us."

Ace pondered over the choice for a good minute, letting Buttercup's words sink in. A tense and anxious minute for the three girls. When he came to a decision, he sighed dramatically, using his thin lips to point in a direction.

"In the top drawer of my desk, there's a thumb drive that I keep of all Gangreen Gang activities in the last year. Each members names. Each shipment of drugs we have received. More so, those who have died at the hands of our members and who is responsible," Ace revealed in defeat. "You take it and everyone here will surely go to prison."

"A thumb drive full of all your secrets?" Buttercup questioned with her eyebrows furrowed. "That's not a smart idea, dude."

"Yeah. This seems a little too suspiciously easy," Bubbles added.

"I'll check the thumb drive then," Blossom suggested, taking a seat in Ace's chair. She slowly pulled out a small thumb drive from the drawer, inputting it into the computer on his desk. "If it's a fake, I reverse time like Buttercup said."

As the computer turned on, a white light flashed across Blossom's face. The clicking of the mouse seeming amplified in the space as Ace sat on the edge of his seat.

"Wait!" He shouted.

"Yes?" Blossom grinned in return.

Ace rolled his eyes, slumping his shoulders, "The thumb drive is a fake. Everything you want is behind the painting."

Bubbles and Buttercup exchanged a nod, jointly taking down the painting of a serpent and finding a hole in the wall containing a black notebook. Buttercup immediately grabbed the book, skimming through the pages. From what she could see, it was a bunch of transactions, detailed to a tee. There was nothing kept private. Members, vices, and victims were each given a paragraph. It must have been Ace's way to make sure nothing escaped him when dealing with his goons. Too bad it would also be his downfall.

Buttercup whistled to herself, closing the notebook, "Well, aren't you lucky that we're saving your pathetic ass? All of this would get you two life sentences."

"Yeah, whatever," he dismissed. His eyes narrowed threateningly, "A deal's a deal. Now get me the fuck out of here before you rat us all out to the police."

"Just one second," she ordered, pulling Bubbles and Blossom close to her. "Are we seriously going to let him get away with all of this?" Buttercup whispered harshly. "I don't want to help a murderer escape the future he rightfully deserves."

"Buttercup," Blossom said sternly in disapproval. "We can't—"

"I actually agree with Buttercup," Bubbles mumbled before biting down on her bottom lip.

"We can't protect him, Blossom. If we're suppose to follow our morals, this isn't it."

Blossom inhaled tiredly, running a hand through her hair, "I… I guess… But we're not going to kill him."

"Then what else are we suppose to do? If we leave him here, he's just going to come back and kill us." In a flash, a light bulb went off in Buttercup head. "Wait. What if he can't come back to Townsville?"

"What do you mean, Buttercup?" Blossom questioned. "We don't exactly have the authority to ban him from town…"

"Bubs. How much gas do you have in your tank?" The dark-haired girl asked, ignoring Blossom's remark.

"Third-quarters, I believe," the blonde shrugged. "Why?"

"Because we're going on a last-minute road trip."

* * *

 _September 24th_

 _Somewhere In The Middle Of Nowhere, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"I'm not sure about this, Buttercup," Blossom said with unease from the backseat. Her eyes darted out nervously to the vast and empty desert terrain around them. "We should turn around."

"Um… no," Buttercup shrugged. "This is the only way we can ensure Ace is gone without us killing him."

Blossom arched her eyebrow, leaning forward in her seat in case Ace could hear her from the inside of the trunk. They had blindfolded him and stuffed him in the back. Ace believed it was so he could not tell his goons where he was to make sure he remained loyal to their deal.

"I'm quite sure leaving him out in the middle of nowhere alone is pretty close to murdering someone," Blossom whispered. Her voice went up an octave towards the end of the sentence. She turned her attention to the blonde behind the wheel, "Bubs, how are not freaking out about this?"

"Oh, I am," Bubbles squeaked. Ice shards crackled underneath her palms, creating circles of ice on her steering wheel again. "But I thought it was too late to say anything."

"Guy!" Buttercup exclaimed to shut them up. "You wanted a solution to our Gangreen Gang problem and now we have one. I'm sorry it's not exactly perfect but what else did you expect?" That question quieted them completely as they sunk down in their car seats. "And for what we know, Ace could survive living in the desert."

"But how will we know he wouldn't come back for us?" Bubbles asked fearfully.

"I'm sure he knows better than to come back to Townsville after all of this," she advised spitefully. "Because if he does, then the dude has one serious death wish." Her eyes flickered out the window as she arched an eyebrow. "Stop right here, Bubs. This is the spot."

The blonde hit the brakes, pausing them at the side of the road. Surrounding them was nothing but desert sand, a few stones, and a tumbleweed stopped in motion for the night. Thousands of stars bathed in the sky, being the only witnesses to their actions.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Blossom mumbled disapprovingly.

"Get over it, Bloss," Buttercup retorted, turning in her seat. "There's worst things _you_ have done."

"No, there isn't," the redhead challenged. She narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired girl. "And I know you're upset about the Brick situation and what you may believe but why are you taking it out on me? I thought we were best friends."

"We are," Buttercup shouted defensively.

Blossom opened her car door, "Then why have you been treating me like enemy number one?" She asked coldly before exiting the car and shutting the door behind her.

The sound of the car door clicking shut echoed greatly in Buttercup's ears. Her conscience was taking full blame for her behavior. She has been a bit nasty of late. There was so many things in her life driving her to unhappiness, Buttercup must have taken it out on Blossom. Even if it was not an excuse, she should have known better. Especially after the last time she took things out on Blossom. It was becoming an ugly habit and she needed to fix it before it happened again.

"Buttercup…"

"I know, Bubs," Buttercup groaned, running a hand through her short dark hair. "I'm the worst. It's no wonder why my mom hates me. I don't even know why you and Blossom put up with me. And it's probably why Butch has been distant lately…"

"You're not the worst," the blonde reassured. "It's the stress of everything getting to you. You've never been the best when handling a lot of emotions. Everything tends to be an emotional vomit with you when you get like this."

" _Emotional vomit_?" she chuckled.

Bubbles nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, indeed. All of your repressed emotions get upchucked onto a poor unfortunate soul. The problem is, this person tends to be Blossom. I don't know why but…"

"I get it," Buttercup sighed, opening the car door. "I'll fix things when we get back to Townsville. But right now, we need to ditch Ace."

* * *

They had left Ace in the middle of the desert. None of them attempted to unfreeze his hands but Blossom had told them beforehand that Ace would be able to get out of his icy handcuffs. Nor did they remove his blindfold. All they did was get him out the trunk of the car, told him to wait a minute before quickly getting back in the car to drive away.

It has been twenty minutes since then, and each of them were processing their guilty conscience from the action. They have just left a man alone in the middle of nowhere. He could die and it would be on their hands.

But Buttercup did not want to think about it. In a few months, hopefully she would forget who Ace even was or what happened to him. She may feel a bit bad now but it was mostly for dragging Blossom and Bubbles into this mess, not for Ace. Buttercup believed Ace barely got what he deserved. He was lucky to have had the chance to make a deal with them, even if it meant he could die out in the desert from dehydration or being attacked by vultures.

This, however, did not change the fact of what they did. That they were now involved in a law breaking crime of sorts. Kidnapping, for sure. Was abandonment and leaving someone out to die a crime too? Buttercup was not sure. All she knew was, this was all her fault. Her and her brash thought process was trying to escape the other problems in her life. Well, now there may be an even larger problem she was tied up in.

"Guys… I'm so sorry," she breathed. It was the first time any of them had spoken since leaving Ace out in the desert. "I shouldn't have gotten us involved with the Gangreen Gang."

"It's not your fault," Blossom replied quietly after some time. "Bubs and I should have known there was not going to be an easy way out of this."

"We could have just had you reverse time so we wouldn't go," Buttercup shrugged weakly out of guilt.

"Actually," the redhead grimaced. "I don't think that's possible. It took me twenty times to get the timing right to stop Ace from killing us and that was only a two minutes difference. It also caused all of you to get the effects of my migraines. Who knows what could have happened if I reversed back to a few hours ago…"

"I wish we had this whole powers thing worked out," Bubbles pouted. "We have no control over anything nor do we even know our limits."

"I don't know about you guys but I can't help shaking the feeling that something is wrong with mine," Blossom murmured as she stared down at her hands. "I'm never able to truly reverse time like I should without any troubles. Nothing comes with ease when it seems like all of your powers happen even when you're not trying. It's like there's something blocking me from fully using them."

"Maybe if we started training, we could figure it out," Buttercup suggested.

"But how could we train if we don't even know what we're doing?"

"I… I don't know, Bubs," the dark-haired girl sighed in defeat. "We need experience to do this and… God. When did we turn into Boomer and worried about this type of shit?"

Bubbles smiled weakly at Buttercup in response as Blossom cleared her throat.

"Actually…" she chimed in with hesitation. "I think I may know a solution to this."

"Which is?" Buttercup questioned suspiciously.

"You were right," the redhead shrugged. "I figured it out almost a month ago but… Brick is the pyro."

In a second, Bubbles hit the brakes aggressively, stopping the car unexpectedly, sending Blossom head first into Buttercup's headrest.

"Bubs!" She groaned as she rubbed her forehead. "What the heck?"

"I'm sorry. I just—Brick's the pyro?" The blonde exclaimed. "I should have known! Oh my god… he's working against us! Blossom, how could you?"

"He's not working against us," Blossom dismissed easily.

"How can you be so sure?" Buttercup scoffed. "He did burn down the factory and could be burning down City Hall soon."

"Because he didn't burn down City Hall the night he was going to," the redhead explained. "I went to stop him when my mom told me that she was working there late at night." Bubbles shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Blossom continued. "When I got there, he was already leaving and City Hall was unharmed. He made the decision all on his own."

"That doesn't mean he wouldn't go back on a later date, Blossom," Buttercup challenged.

"You're right."

"Then I'm sorry, Bloss, but he can't be trusted."

"No, he can be," Blossom said softly. She darted her eyes out the window, running a hand through her hair. "I didn't want to discuss it because I'm terrified of it happening but… I had a vision that he sacrifices himself for me. He allows the shadow to kill him just so I could get away… He dies thinking he will always be a mistake," she murmured somberly. "If that could be the future, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure he doesn't die thinking he was the one who messed everything up."

"Blossom…"

"He doesn't even know that I know about his powers," she sniffled quietly.

By this time, Buttercup and Bubbles both became aware that Blossom had began to cry. It was seeing her tears that made Buttercup realize just how important Brick had become to Blossom. Especially when she put into consideration that he sacrifices himself for her. Blossom must be full of guilt because of this knowledge; because she had to keep it all in since there was no one to tell. On top of that, the redhead must feel even more worse for keeping her awareness of his powers a secret from her friends and him.

Buttercup reached out to her, placing her hand on Blossom's knee in comfort. She smiled softly at the redhead when she looked away from the window to meet Buttercup's eyes.

"How did you find out?" Buttercup asked calmly.

"Temperature," Blossom answered. "I figured it out the day after the factory fire and I wanted to tell you, but like I said, he never told me. I didn't want to accuse him of anything."

Buttercup nodded. Despite feeling a part of her that was rubbed the wrong way by Blossom protecting him, she understood why the redhead did. If Butch was in the same situation, Buttercup would have kept the secret to herself.

"So what? He's like extremely warm?"

"Not exactly. Unlike Bubbles' extreme temperature difference, he's just a constant few degrees warmer than the normal human. I hypothesized that he must know how to control it and that's why he isn't as bad as Bubs."

"Wait. We can control our side effects?" Bubbles squealed. "We need to talk to him immediately if this is true."

"I could arrange for us to have another group meeting," Blossom grinned weakly, wiping the corner of her right eye with the inner skin of her wrist. "Just promise me that you'll hear him out. I'm sure he has a good reason for whatever he has done."

Buttercup and Bubbles exchanged looks, speaking silently to each other before nodding.

"Okay."

* * *

 _September 25th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"This place is…"

Buttercup eyed around the small home that seemed more like a shack than a house. The entire interior was lined with dark wooden panels, making the space seem gloomy. There was a single leather couch in the middle of room facing a fireplace, a dining table with four chairs to the left of it which lead to a closet size kitchen, a weird light fixture that had antlers on them was hung above the table, and then two doors in which Buttercup figured led to Brick's bedroom and bathroom.

There was not a single thing that seemed personal in the home. No pictures. No fragments of anything that clued into any interests of Brick's. It was simply seemed plain, in a creepy cabin sense.

At least, the place was completely spotless. There was not even a single speckle of dust that Buttercup could see.

"...Quaint," she concluded after sometime sheepishly.

Blossom rolled her eyes, grinning slightly at her response.

The two of them stood by window closest to Brick's door, while Boomer and Brick sat at the dining table discussing cars. Bubbles was standing by the fireplace, delighted by the warmth from the flame despite it being over a hundred degrees outside. Luckily, Brick kept his home at a low sixty because of his body temperature. Now all they needed was for Butch, who was on his way from work, to show up to get their group meeting started.

"It used to be a hunting cabin," Blossom explained. The sunlight was hitting her eyes perfectly to make them seem lighter than usual. Like an airy cotton candy pink. Her hair had become a soft copper tone. The shadows of the window traced her face, curving it like delicate brush strokes. It was no wonder why most guys found Blossom to be completely captivating. She was the true definition of being pretty. "What the person was hunting out here, I have not the slightest clue but Brick got it for a cheap price."

"Well that explains the antlers," Buttercup acknowledged, darting her eyes back to the atrocity that was his light fixture.

Blossom chuckled lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "He hates it too. I keep telling him to get rid of it but as you see…"

Buttercup arched an eyebrow, grinning mischievously at the redhead, "So…" she sang. "How often to come to Brick's little love shack?"

"We… I only come here when we don't get enough study time in," Blossom answered flusteredly.

"Uh huh. Just like Butch comes over my house to help me do laundry," she challenged amusingly.

"I'm serious," the redhead said firmly. Her cheeks grew a rosy color, and it was not from standing in the direct sunlight. "All we do is study. Maybe make out some when we need a break."

Buttercup folded her arms in challenge, "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Buttercup."

"I'm dropping it," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "So how did you get Brick to agree to this?"

"I told him the truth."

Buttercup eyes widened immediately, shocked that Blossom had enough courage to tell Brick about his sacrifice. "You told—"

"No. Not the whole truth," Blossom exhaled somberly. "I only told him about us deducing he was the pyro and that we wanted to hear his side of things."

"And it went that smoothly?"

"Of course not," the redhead chuckled off. "He was so convinced that it would change how I felt about him. He kept repeating how he understood if I hated him now and that I wanted nothing to do with him."

Buttercup flickered her eyes over to the male redhead. She figured he would be a jumbled mess if he was freaking out about Blossom knowing about his secret. Instead, he seemed calm and comfortable.

"Then how did you calm him down so much?"

"Oh, you know. The old movie cliche of cutting-the-person-off-mid-freak-out-with-a-kiss," she grinned lovingly. "Afterward, I asked him to officially be my boyfriend, which reassured him enough to know I was serious about him and that I wasn't going to change my mind."

"Oh god. That's sickeningly sweet," Buttercup groaned. "Which is so odd for a guy like Brick."

Blossom shrugged her shoulders without a care, "I happen to find it quite appealing."

"Oh, I'm sure," she teased.

"Are you really doing this again?"

Buttercup arched an eyebrow with a grin, "Doing what?"

"Insinuating."

"Perhaps but is it so bad?"

"Yes. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Oh," Buttercup frowned, slumping her shoulders in regret. "I'm sorry."

Blossom sighed, shaking her head. "No. I'm being too touchy. It's just… the only guy I ever did anything with was Henry and he… _you know_ … so I'm just…"

"You're perfectly valid in feeling that way," Buttercup answered softly. Her hands gently perched themselves on Blossom's slim shoulders. Their eyes connecting as she continued, "And I'm sorry for pushing too much. Not just with this but with everything lately. I seem to keep dumping all my frustrations on to you and I'm sorry. You don't deserve it."

"Thank you," Blossom smiled weakly.

"And I promise, I going to make a conscious effort to not do it anymore. If you catch me doing it again, please call me out all you want."

The redhead nodded, chuckling a little, "Will do."

"Great," she grinned. As Buttercup was swept up in the emotions of forgiveness, she gave Blossom a brief hug along with her apology. When they parted, she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. "Thank you for being a great friend and person, Blossom. I don't know how you do it but you do."

"Well, I…" Blossom trailed off. Her eyes escaped Buttercup's. Tension built up in her shoulders from the compliment. She let out an anxious breath, "Buttercup. There's something I need to tell you. It's about—"

"Yo, let's get this started," Butch announced as he opened the door to Brick's home, cutting Blossom off.

Buttercup felt her chest rise up in happiness from the sight of her boyfriend. A person who she has not seen that much of lately due to different schedules.

She silently went to him, attempting to greet him with a kiss but as she went for his lips, Butch turned his face at the last second, resulting in her to kiss his cheek.

"Hey," he said sheepishly, extending the 'ey' sound for a long, awkward amount of time. His hands settled on to her shoulders, creating an unnoticeable distance between them. "How are you?"

"I'm okay?" She replied with confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed furiously at his odd behavior.

"Great," he nodded delicately.

A flash in his eyes caught her attention. It was a sense of panic. Or a reminder. Whatever it was, it made him jump. He abruptly, wrapped an arm around her, kissing the crown of her head.

She knew better. She knew there was something weird going on with him but the action made her soothe out her worries. He just knew exactly how to work her.

Buttercup led him back to Blossom as the other three made their way to the couch to start their group session.

"What was it that you wanted to tell me, Blossom?"

The redhead darted her eyes between the couple. Her face becoming more noticeably pale. She hugged herself out of discomfort, shaking her head for dismissal.

"It was nothing."

"Are you sure?"

She looked back up at Butch. Her rose-colored eyes examined him with a harden stare.

" _I hope so_."

Without saying more, Blossom quietly walked away from Buttercup and Butch, taking a seat next to Brick on the couch. Butch arched an eyebrow, gazing down at Buttercup.

"What was that about?"

"I have not the slightest clue," she mumbled.

Her eyes lingered on the redhead for a few more seconds before being led by Butch to take a seat. She figured her and Butch would sit beside Blossom and Brick on the couch, but he chose to take a dining room chair for himself, leaving Buttercup to herself. She sat next to Blossom as Butch placed his chair diagonal from the fireplace. Bubbles sat on the floor, her legs spread out comfortably as she remained close to the warmth of the fire crackling next to her. Boomer reluctantly took the seat beside Buttercup, huffing as he slumped down in the leather material.

Buttercup figured he must have hoped to sit next to Bubbles instead. She glanced her eyes over to Butch who seemed to be in deep thought, not even noticing her or how let down she felt.

Looks like the both of them were disappointed by their expectations.

"So…" Brick pitched to ease the awkwardness of discussing the subject matter at hand. He then cleared his throat. The discomfort that Blossom attempted to ease quickly sprouting up again. "I guess I should explain everything?"

"No duh," Butch deadpanned, staring at Brick flatly. "You've been lying to us for weeks."

"Butch," Buttercup warned.

Butch shrugged his shoulders indifference, "I don't like being lied to."

" _Funny_ ," Blossom muttered sarcastically under her breath before gasping quietly, looking around the room to make sure no one heard her. She let out a sigh of relief when it appeared no one did.

"It's fine, Buttercup. All of you have the right to be angry with me," Brick began. "I made some fucked up choices and I promise, all I want to do is fix them."

"Then prove it," Boomer replied. "Tell us what exactly it is that we're up against."

Brick exhaled with exhaustion, downcasting his eyes to the wooden floors of his home. Blossom was rubbing her hand gently into his back to signal a sign of support as he responded.

"An inter-dimensional demon," he breathed.

"A what?" Bubbles gasped.

"We're up against fucking Satan?" Butch remarked with his mouth wide open. "Where's Jesus when you need him?"

"I'm not sure if he's Satan but Him seems to be more dangerous than anything I've ever seen."

" _Him_?" Boomer questioned as Buttercup recalled the usage of the name in her dad's journal. That her dad had been possibly murdered by a demon. "That's what this demon's name is? Him? Why?"

"How am I suppose to know?" Brick shrugged. "I tried not to get personal with a demon. You know, because he's a fucking demon."

"Okay then... So what does he want?" Boomer asked anxiously. "Why is he bothering with a craptown like Townsville?"

"The lake is one of the few gateways from his true dimension. He been trying to enter into our dimension for a century now but has gotten stuck in the two planes of existence. One part of Him lives in Townsville, the other is trying to break through from the other side. All Him needs to do is to create enough chaos within the town and gain the twelve keys of chaos needed to unlock the pathway," the red-headed male explained. "After that, he can take up his real physical form and pretty much make everything Hell on Earth."

"That's it?" Butch scoffed. "Just the cliche, takeover the world plan?"

"A little anticlimactic, don't you think?" Bubbles nodded.

"Two-dimensional, honestly," Buttercup agreed.

"He's an demon. What do you expect?" Brick exasperated. "He's chaotically evil. Not some complex villain."

"Are you defending him?" Butch inquired with judgement. "Not cool, bro."

"I'm not defending him," Brick deflected. "I just... Just ask me another question," he groaned in frustration.

"How about how you got wrapped up in all of this?" Blossom replied softly. Brick turned to her, giving her a small smile. For a brief moment, it seemed like they were lost in their own world.

Buttercup looked over at Butch again, waiting for him to glance up at her and for them to have a moment but whenever the conversation paused, he appeared to have checked out. She wanted to get inside of his head. Figure out what was troubling him so much but it seemed so impossible with how he has been acting lately.

Brick cleared his throat again, realizing the others were still in the room with him. He inhaled sharply, mustering up the courage he had inside of him.

"My foster dad had a massive heart attack about five years ago and has been in a coma since. I should have let him go a long time ago but I never could. He was all I ever had at the time…" he lamented. "So when Him offered to heal him if I agreed to work for him, I said yes because I wanted the one thing that made my life bearable. Even if I knew it was wrong…"

"Brick…" Blossom whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. I had no idea," Bubbles sniffed, wiping away the single tear she had.

"Well now I feel like a dick," Butch mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

"You're good," Brick replied. "You had no clue. I should have told you and Boomer a long time ago about what was happening. You guys were the only friends I had for the last few years."

"It not like we ever asked," Boomer admitted sheepishly.

"True," the redhead smiled wryly. "But I preferred it that way… But now, I want to be as open as I can be. There's no use in keeping secrets with everything that's going on."

"Preach it," Butch chuckled nervously.

His eyes did not connect with the loose, charismatic smile on his lips. There was a storm of thoughts brewing within him, unreadable to anyone in the room and going unnoticed by all except for Buttercup. Whatever was circling around in his mind was becoming more and more powerful, leaving Buttercup unsure to when this storm inside of him would ever settle.

She wanted to ask him about it. Her mind traced back to last time she saw him like this. It was Princess' Birthday party a few years ago. After his conversation with Berserk.

 _You're holding yourself back from the truth…_

Was she–

"So how about our powers?" Bubbles asked, snapping Buttercup back into the conversation they had continued to have without her. "How do you know how to control your's?"

"Practice," Brick shrugged nonchalantly.

"You been practicing your powers for the last month?" Butch pondered, arching an eyebrow. "That's dedication."

"Oh. No," the redhead said quietly. He gulped, tapping his finger against his knee. "This is where things get pretty confusing."

"What do you mean?"

Brick inhaled and exhaled sharply, "This isn't the first time we have lived through these events. It's actually the hundred and seventeenth time we have gotten our powers. It always starts over on the day we go to the lake."

"I think I would have remembered about gaining some ability to earthbend—"

"Geokinesis," Blossom corrected sheepishly.

"Fine," Butch huffed. " _Geokinesis_."

"And I'm sure you would," Brick agreed. "The thing is, with every reboot, all of your memories get wiped out. All except for mine because I am–er, was Him's right hand man."

"So let me get this straight," Boomer chimed urgently, rising to his feet as he began to pace back and forth. "We've lived through this a hundred and seventeen times. Which means, we are endlessly stuck trying to fight an inter-dimensional demon." He tugged on his long blond locks to help settle the anxiety pulsing through him. His breathing becoming a bit heavier and shallow as he continued. "This is like my worst nightmare."

Bubbles quickly went to his side, attempting to calm him. "Boomer, it's okay. Take some deep breaths." The male listened to her directions. His chest sunk in and filled out at a moderate pace as Bubbles eyed Brick, "Why the time loop?"

"My belief is Him restarts everything once we get close to beating him. That or, since the previous blood moon—which triggers the meteor that gave us our powers—was the last of this century and Him needs to open the gates before New Year's or he does not exist in this plane of existences anymore, he must realize he has not made enough progress and decides to start over once again. But in all honesty, I have no actual clue why Him has restarted so many times now."

"I thought you were the only one to have your memories intact," Buttercup pointed out.

"I did too," Brick sighed. "But I'm beginning to believe Him has kept a few of my memories from the previous timelines from me."

"Why's that?" Butch questioned.

"For some reason, I had the knowledge of everyone's powers—"

"Wait. You know everyone's powers?" Bubbles caught. Brick nodded. "Then what are the punks, Princess and Robin's powers?"

"Princess' is to be kept private," Buttercup announced, giving Bubbles the side eye. "She's still upset about it and needs more time to figure things out."

"Fine."

"Well then, um…" Brick looked off in the distance, trying to recollect the differences between the girls since he was not that acquainted with them to know. He snapped his fingers together when he matched them correctly in his head, "Brat has a super sonic scream–"

"Like _Black Canary_?" Boomer asked curiously with a slight excitement, seeming to have gotten to calm himself down a bit. His breathing was still hollow at times though as his fingers nervously twiddled with each other.

"Sure," Brick replied. "Robin's is invisibility."

"Fitting," Buttercup commented.

"Brute is an illusionist," he revealed. "But I don't have any memories of her using her abilities, so I can't be one hundred percent sure."

"Strange," Blossom added, her eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"And lastly, Berserk has super speed."

"Huh," Butch chuckled bitterly to himself.

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at him, confused by his reaction. There was a sense of resentment coming from him. It was enough emotion for Buttercup to know that Butch did hold some type of notions about Berserk. The question was, what were they?

She noticed from the corner of her eye that Blossom sent a similar expression in Butch's path, except her's was more frosty than perplexed. It was strange to Buttercup considering that Butch and Blossom were generally always on good terms.

"I'm glad that we got this all sorted out," Boomer remarked. "But my anxiety is not going to completely calm down until you explain the repetition of time."

"Right," Brick nodded. "Like I was saying, I know about everyone's powers. Everyone except for Blossom's. I had no clue she was even supposed to show up at the lake that night."

"Interesting," the redhead commented. Her mind whirled with plausible theories.

"Why would he want to keep Blossom from you?"

"I mean, I think it's pretty obvious, Bubs," Buttercup snorted, gesturing towards the redheaded couple next to her. "Blossom is what gets Brick to turn on Him. If Him can keep that a secret for as long as he wants, then he doesn't have to worry about Brick's loyalty for awhile."

"It does explain why he would make such an effort every time to keep me from Brick's memories," Blossom agreed. "And if our memories get erased with each reboot, then…" She gasped to herself, turning to Brick. Her hand clutched on to his as her rose-colored eyes stared intensely into his, "This is why I feel like I've known you from another lifetime ago. We already have vague memories with no association to each other that happened in other timelines. And if you're always switching sides in every timeline, that means—"

"We always end up falling for each other," Brick finished in astonishment.

Blossom nodded aggressively. She then gazed around the room, "And if we have gone through multiple timelines, then my visions aren't of the future but of the past. They're all from the timelines that no longer exist."

"So that means everything is constantly repeating?" Boomer asked, rubbing the side of his temples. "Man. My head is starting to hurt from all of this."

"No. It means certain things happen in one timeline but don't in the other. Like the City Hall fire. That didn't happen in this new timeline but it did in another one," Blossom explained. "Things are tangible but then," she glanced back at Brick, grinning lovingly at him. "Others are not."

"Which means we have no clue which of your visions will be legitimate or not," Buttercup concluded, sighing in defeat at the realization.

When Blossom made the assumption that her visions were of the past timelines, a new sense of hope arose in Buttercup's body. It meant that her breakup with Butch was not inevitable.

That hope has quickly fled now.

"Yeah," Blossom breathed. Her eyes flickered over to Butch for a brief second. "I wish I knew which were correct."

"Me too."

The redhead nodded in understanding. Her lips pursed together before her eyes widened with another thought.

"Oh my. This is why my powers don't work correctly," she realized. "The constant rebooting is throwing the entire space-time continuum out of whack."

"That does make a lot of sense," Bubbles thought out loud. "But what about our powers? Are they affected?"

"Not that I know of," Brick answered.

"Then why can't we control them?" Butch questioned. "I haven't been able to use them since I discovered them."

"It's all about energy," the redhead revealed. "To have complete control, you need to have everything in balance. Your focus, attention, emotions. Everything. Too much emotions, you get harmful results. If you're not focused, than you don't get any powers to use. Lack of attention, you weaken your powers. You also have to pace yourself or you'll drain all the energy out of yourself and need to recharge."

"Aw," Bubbles cooed, staring at Butch

"What?" He exasperated.

"You were able to channel your powers because you were worried about Buttercup," the blonde recalled. "Your love for her is what got you to focus."

"Oh," Butch muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. " _Right_."

"What do you mean by harmful?" Buttercup acknowledged with a frown, ignoring the rush of unpleasant thoughts she felt at the moment.

"Yeah," Brick chuckled. "We can do some pretty fucked up things. Like you, Buttercup. Your powers can summon a thunderstorm that is berated with lightning for days." His eyes drifted over to Boomer, "You can create a large enough tsunami to wipe out the Hawaiian islands. Bubbles can make the entire western seaboard go into another ice age. Butch could create a strong enough earthquake to break apart the Rocky Mountains."

"What about you?" Blossom asked curiously as the other four stared down at their hands in disbelief.

"Wildfires that can last for months," he answered. "And if Butch and I combine our powers, we can create a super volcano."

"We can combine our powers?" Boomer inquired, tugging on his hair again.

"You and Buttercup can make a super storm the size of Canada if you both were experiencing an intense amount emotions at the same time."

"So this has all happened in other timelines then?" Buttercup hypothesized. "If so, what the hell triggered us?"

"Actually. The only one to get to any extremes is Bubbles," Brick confessed. "The other stuff I just know from Him and some research I found in one of the timelines."

"How do I—"

"Research?" Buttercup interjected, interrupting Bubbles from asking her question.

"Yeah," the redhead exhaled. "All of this has happened before. Not just because of the constant reboots but with other groups just like us. Within every twenty years since the start of the twentieth century, the blood moon would occur and Him would take on a new group to create chaos for him. The problem was, those groups never were able to be gifted with powers. Him would them find them useless, which meant they were either killed, committed suicide or mysteriously vanished."

"Which is just an interesting way to say murdered," Butch commented.

Brick nodded, "As the first four groups came and went, Him never found any use out of them. Then the group before us came. They didn't get any abilities from the meteor that struck us, but they were willing to stay loyal to Him if he spared their lives. All they had to do was keep quiet and create enough civil chaos around town until the next blood moon occurred."

"Shit," Buttercup murmured. She ran a hand through her hair, recollecting her dad's journal.

 _It has all happened before…_

"From that group, I found a notebook full of theories about time, the lake, and what the keys Him needed were—"

"Brick, I think the research you discovered was my dad's," Buttercup announced.

"What?" Butch and Blossom gasped.

The dark-haired girl nodded somberly, "I found a journal in my attic a week ago. It was full of nonsense I did not understand and some drawings of the lake and the moon."

Buttercup wanted to tell them about what her mom said after she confronted her about the journal but Buttercup could not force it out of herself. She did not want their pity nor did she feel like overexposing herself in front of them. For now, Buttercup would keep that truth to herself until she knew when to express it without feeling a sharp pain inside her.

"Was the writing in French?" Brick followed up.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "All I know is that I couldn't read any of it except the last page."

"If it is in French, then that's the notebook I read too."

"So what? Other generations have been affected and the only resolution for them is to die or to become buddies with an inter-dimensional demon?" Boomer questioned nervously. "And we're stuck repeating this over and over again? Is there anyway to end this?"

"There's two ways," the redhead answered firmly. "One where Him opens the gates, attains his physical form, and unleashes Hell on Earth. Second is where we stop him."

"But we can't do that with all the reboots."

"I remember in one of my visions that Brick told me that I was the only way to stop everything," Blossom interjected. Her eyes widened from connecting the dots. "I have to go to the lake to stop it. Maybe all we need to do is for me to go there and fix the timeline."

"That seems a little too easy," Butch replied skeptically.

"That's because it is," Brick agreed. "The lake is Him's territory. You wouldn't be able to touch anything without Him knowing."

"Which explains why we got attacked on Labor Day," Bubbles commented.

Brick turned to Blossom, an eyebrow arched. "The only way I can see you being able to fix things, would be us getting you to the center of lake but again, there's no way we can do that right now. We're too weak and you have no clue how to use your powers."

"None of us do," Buttercup grumbled.

"Then train us," Blossom smiled softly.

"I may be able to train the others, but I have no idea how your powers work, sweetheart."

"Maybe my dad's journal may have something."

Blossom sighed, "But I don't know French."

"Well, aren't you in luck?" Brick grinned, squeezing Blossom's hand. "Because I'm pretty much fluent in the language."

The redhead girl nodded, meeting each of her friends eyes as she spoke, "So the plan for us now is to gain control of our powers and to prevent any forms of chaos at all costs."

"We should train here," Brick advised. "Him has the ability to watch over us in Townsville whenever he wants but once we leave city limits, he has no clue what is going on since he is trapped within Townsville—"

"Like the people in _Under the Dome_? _"_ Boomer asked to get a better understanding of what Brick meant.

"Yup."

"Isn't that what they parodied in the _Simpsons Movie_?" Butch questioned.

"Yes," Buttercup huffed, shaking her head at the fact Butch only got Boomer's reference because of the movie.

"Interesting," he awed.

"Like I was saying," Brick picked up again. "Since I'm the only one who lives outside of town, this is our only option of Him not finding out our plans."

"Sounds good," Bubbles approved with a toothy smile.

"Back to being sitting ducks," Boomer beamed. "I like it that way better."

"Until we have enough resources to end the time loop and finish Him for good," Butch pointed out with an amused grin as he watched Boomer's smile faded away.

"Yeah, well… Ah forget it," the blond groaned. "This is going to be a nightmare until it's over, isn't it?"

* * *

 _September 25th_

 _Somewhere In The Middle Of Nowhere, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

He trudged along the worn out road. His eyes followed on the bright yellow lines but his visions was blurring more and more with time. The sun pounded against his head. His tongue grew dry from dehydration, scratching itself on the roof of his mouth.

There has yet to be a car to pass by him. There has been no way for him to escape the hellish landscape.

If he was not so tired, thirsty and weak, Ace would be formulating ways to kill those pesky girls for abandoning him in the middle of nowhere. They left him here to die. In his mind, they had betrayed him.

Ace would be impressed if he was not so vengeful of a human being.

He panted loudly as he looked up at the scorching sun. The beams of light shined too brightly into his eyes. He gazed back down at the road, blinking away the blinding light from his vision.

As he did this, his ears perked up by the sound of an engine. Ace narrowed his eyes to the distance, noticing a blue car approaching him. He stuck out a thumb, praying for the first time in his life, hoping the stranger would not be afraid of a hitchhiker.

A green, dehydrated, and incredibly dangerous hitchhiker.

The car slowed as it came close to him. The window rolled down. A familiar face stuck their head out the window as another was behind the driver's wheel.

Ace furrowed his eyebrows, looking into the car with confusion.

"How did you—"

"You're going to have to play dead for awhile," Berserk said flatly. She stared at him with a lack of any emotions. A cold stare that conjured up a scandalous feeling within Ace.

"What do—"

"Get in, asshole," she interrupted again with an exhausted sigh as Brat giggled quietly beside her. "I'll explain on the way. All that matters is that we have a town to destroy."

Ace grinned wickedly, reaching for the car door, eagerly welcoming his escape from the harsh desert terrain.

"Oh," he grinned devilishly. "I can get behind that effort."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hey everyone!**

 **I know some expected this chapter to focus on Boomer given the sequence of the previous chapters. His chapter had been pushed back a few due to a major plot development in it and also how disruptive it was in terms of the current plot.**

 **Other than that, I would like to thank everyone who took the time to write a review for the last chapter. I truly appreciate it and all the positivity since I was a bit concerned about reception I was going to receive. All of you are simply the best.**

 **Thank you for reading and please review!**


	8. The Runaway

_October 2nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

He was quite intriguing.

The smooth slope of his nose. His slightly hooded brow bone. A strong squared jawline. The small dimple in his left cheek. His head full of loose dark ringlets. A broad pair of shoulders and a muscular chest. The way his soft lips parted as he slept.

Okay, she may be over-exaggerating a bit. His features were pretty basic compared to others.

More so, she did feel like a creep watching him sleep but Berserk could not find the strength to leave his room as she would on a regular night.

It was the first time she has stayed this late without Butch being awake. There were nights in which they stayed up until sunrise, talking about anything and everything they could think about; yet, there was also a thin veil of privacy kept between them due to the lack of establishing what it was exactly that they meant to each other.

She expected to fall asleep given how much energy she burnt off a few hours ago but her body was on high alert. Shaking herself awake whenever she was close to getting comfortable. The unease prevented her from getting any peaceful sleep.

She glanced over to the alarm clock on Butch's nightstand, reading the time.

 _2:54_

Berserk sighed quietly to herself, frustrated by whatever has become of her. To the reason for why she was unable to sleep for the night.

Her eyes drifted back to Butch. A light snore escaped his lips. His entire body comfortable and calm next to her as he faced her. She wondered how he could sleep without any troubles when around her. How he could keep his arm tucked around her waist as he slept.

Berserk wanted to know how he would even want her to stay here while he was not conscious. He trusted her too much, she thought to herself as her stomach flopped along with it.

She darted her eyes around his dark room to help settle her nerves.

His room was not anything special. It was too bare in her opinion. There was a large, dark wooden dresser in front of his bed. She knew Butch kept an empty drawer for her since she has been coming over every other night now. A desk on the other side of his bed. A bookshelf next to the desk that did not contain anything but cookbooks because Butch was not a fan of actual books. Then there was his bed. His linens and comforter were all white and he has yet to get a stain on them despite his comforter usually getting kicked off the bed when they had sex—which had routinely occurred merely a few hours ago.

There was not much to his room. Not an ounce of personality to it despite Butch being an incrediblely charismatic person.

She found herself gazing at him again. Her eyes were sketching his features permanently into her mind.

He was captivating to her again.

Berserk resented herself for thinking this way. For letting a guy get under her skin like this. With others, she was able to remain without any thoughts towards them. It was all fun and no emotions. Yet Butch made her feel weak when he kissed her. Electricity coursed through her veins with a simple glance from his emerald eyes. She felt softer around him. Her jagged edges growing smooth whenever he touched her. Her thoughts were often invaded by his presence as of late.

She was not a fool. Berserk knew what all of this meant. It was all a truth she had to keep within her.

There was no need to complicate things between them. It was not worth her time since he would never genuinely be interested in her.

Butch was a good person. Pure heart and no dark secrets to hide. A wholesome job and a joy for life. He was the type to marry the girl next door. Someone who could match the gold in his heart.

Berserk knew she could never be that person. She had too many demons within her. Her soul was incapable of being loved.

He would not love her anyways, she quickly reminded herself. They were simply fucking around. Maybe even friends now. Berserk was sure he was only interested because of her body and her lack of self-control when it came to him.

She should have cut things off the moment she realized she had feelings. Yet, whenever he texted her or looked into her eyes, Berserk had nowhere to run. She was always led back to him without any restraints.

Berserk just wondered if she was ever going to get tired of running back to him. Or more so, if he was going to get tired of her.

* * *

 _September 28th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Instead of eating the breakfast in front of her, she read over the headline from the local newspaper again. The bottom of the printed paper was laying out on the steel table of the interrogation room Him had shared with them. Her eyes analyzed the black and white photo chosen for the cover story. Big Billy was plastered getting handcuffed on every single one of them in town.

 _ **Gangreen Gang members exposed and arrested after anonymous leak…**_

Berserk threw the paper down, rolling her eyes in disdain. She may not be proud of her ancestral ties to the group but knowing her great-uncle's empire had crashed and burned under the leadership of Ace Copular, it made Berserk feel a newly founded sense of scorn towards the lanky teen.

This made working with him even more of a challenging task than she originally recognized it for.

"Not the best picture of Billy, I must say," Ace quipped with a smug grin as he entered the room that she had previously occupied alone. His dark shades settling on the tip of his nose as he read over the article. A long, narrow finger traced over the lines of each sentence, reminding Berserk of kindergarteners attempting to read, as his thin lips mouthed each word silently to himself.

"No sense of remorse?" She remarked with a frosty bite strong enough to make Ace subconsciously shiver a little.

"Why would I?" He shrugged. His lips grew into a sinister smile. "They were simply pawns in the grand scheme of things."

"They were your friends."

"More like lackeys."

"I'm sure they wouldn't agree," Berserk replied in a bored tone. Her eyes skimmed over the glossy coat of blood red nail polish on her fingers.

"What does it matter, Dollface? They're going to prison and I'm here about to take over the world." Ace squatted down beside her. His green-tinted face was about five inches from her's. A boney finger tried to lay itself on her back but Berserk caught it in a nanosecond due to her superpowered reflexes. Her grip tightening forcefully on his slim finger, making him howl greatly as the true speed of time surrounded her again.

"Don't. You. Fucking. Touch. Me." Berserk retorted through her teeth, letting go of his finger and rising from her seat, heading for the door.

"Fine—Ow," he yelped when touching his finger. Ace attempted to shake out the pain and hide the effects from his face but Berserk found him to be too transparent. He followed her out of the room, pausing at the doorway. His lanky body pressed against the doorframe. "You do realize you'll have to drop them too?"

Berserk, who had her back towards Ace, did not bother giving him any of her full attention. Instead, as she packed up her things, Berserk spoke with disinterest despite the prickly knot twisting itself in her stomach from what he was suggesting.

"Him doesn't truly want them. He wants you," Ace smirked, pushing his shades back up to his eyes, concealing his pitch-black pupils. " _He wants us_. We're too apathetic to live amongst everyone else, which is why we're perfect for him. The sooner you realize it, the easier this partnership will be."

"With who? You?" She sneered. "Don't fool yourself." With a slight tilt of her head, she stared at him with a razor sharpness, wishing to wound him with the simple batting of her eyelashes. "You're company I would prefer not to keep. Simply deadweight."

"And you're friends are dead-men walking—or should I say dead-women? Is that the politically correct term?" He questioned to himself as Berserk rolled her eyes.

She cleared her throat ever so slightly to regain control of his attention.

"If you're trying to threaten me or them, Ace—"

"I'm only telling you the truth," Ace interrupted. There was a twang of arrogance in his tone in which frustrated Berserk more than she liked. His dark eyebrow arched upward. "It seems to me that between the two of us, you're the fool here."

"Am I?" She asked in an icy rhetoric. "Perhaps I should go to the police station and inform them of your location?" Berserk watched as Ace's face drained of any color that was not the puke-ish green undertone of his skin. "Oh. Did you forget you're a wanted criminal, Ace?"

He stood quietly for a good moment, unable to make a comeback until his cocky smirk emerged once again. His arms crossed together as he spoke with amusement in his voice, "But you wouldn't tell anyone, Dollface."

Berserk stared at him blankly. Her mind confused by his comment. The idea of having Ace completely out of her life sounded like a dream come true.

"I definitely would."

Ace chuckled a little, shaking his head lightly in disagreement. "No. You wouldn't. And that because you've gone soft. Your friends, your job, your family…" Ace hesitated for a second, unwilling to say his next train of thought out loud due to his resentment towards it. " _Your fling with Butch_ … it has all made you too soft."

She did not say anything back. Instead, her eyes found the cobalt-colored strappy heels she wore to be more interesting. Her mind not wanting to acknowledge the truth he has brought up. With the few individuals she has let into her heavily guarded walls, they have found the exact buttons in which made her seem like putty. There were people she cared for, a change from how things were when she first arrived to America. And with the affection she carried in her heart for them, a warmth grew within her, masking any speckle of darkness in her soul.

Although the warmth has dimmed in recent months, Berserk knew she was not the same. She was not the person that she once believed she was.

Maybe that was why she agreed to take part in Him's endeavors. To prove she could still be the old person she was beforehand.

Or it could be she just did not care about humanity, other than a select few.

It was one of those two answers, based on whatever she felt at the moment.

"Whatever, Ace," she dismissed harshly, making her way for the exit but stopped for a moment when she heard Ace call out to her once more.

"I do wonder how you will be able to complete your task for Him, given your lack of stomach for it now," he presented with too much glee.

Berserk left without adding another comment. A wave of boiling irritation washed over her that was soon followed by a tsunami of fears.

Ace did have a point.

She was not sure how Him would react if she did not attempt his goal for her. Would he kill her? Would she be replaced like Brick was? Would he find another way to break Butch regardless of her involvement?

There were too many uncertainties surrounding it for her to be comfortable, which was why Berserk was glad she had to clock-in in fifteen minutes as her work would give her mind a break from her troubles for the momentary length of time.

* * *

 _October 16th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago..._

"Okay. What is your deal?"

"Huh?"

Berserk turned around to find Brute and Brat both staring at her with curious eyes. They were outside their high school gymnasium with a few minutes to spare before their first classes of the day.

She removed her helmet, placing it on top of her motorbike. A perfectly groomed eyebrow arching at her two friends as she combed through her orange locks to decrease the presences of helmet hair.

"Why have you been AWOL lately?" Brute asked again.

"You skipped out on movie night last week and I really wanted to see the new Chris Pine movie," Brat pointed out with a pout. "You know how much I can't resist that beautiful face of his."

"You could have gone without me," Berserk replied. It was not in a rude way or anything, more like a simple acknowledgment.

"Yeah but it's not the same," the blonde argued in a high pitch tone, kicking at a few rocks with the tan cowboy boots she wore.

"You also bailed out on helping me study for my bio test," Brute pointed out. The short pixie cut she adorned for the week displayed her high cheekbones and flawless skin elegantly. "Which isn't the first time you have skipped out on a promise you made in the past few months."

Hot pink eyes widened from her mistaken lapse in memory.

"Shit."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Brute remarked, letting Berserk know there were no hard feelings involved. "So are you going to tell us what's up or not?"

Berserk ran a hand through her hair one last time, letting out a sigh. Having to hide her arrangement with Butch from them has been more difficult than she truly expected, and now that they were officially together, she knew it would be nearly impossible to withhold it from them.

"I was with a guy," she confessed in a single breath. Her chest lightened a bit with an exhale. "I actually been seeing him for awhile now."

"You what?" Brat exclaimed. "Since when?"

"I don't know. August?" She shrugged off casually despite knowing the exact date by heart.

"Mmmm…" Brute nodded slowly, pursing her lips in thought. "And who exactly is this man of your's? Is he in one of your classes?"

"He's graduated," Berserk answered, continuing on loudly to cut off the further questioning Brute was about to commit to. "And that's all you will know about him. We're keeping things low key for now and I'm telling this to both of you, in case of the chance I'm flaking again, you'll know why."

"Come on—"

"I'm serious. I want to keep this private, okay?"

"Fine," Brat huffed out.

"Does he at least treat you good?" Brute asked cautiously. Her hands held up to intend no harm. "That's all I want to know, girl. Anything else is up to you when you feel like telling us."

Berserk smiled fondly at her friend's concern and because of the question. She gave them the answer as the bell rang to begin school. A mutual satisfied response came from them both as they went their separate ways to class. Her words echoed through her mind for the entry of her first period.

" _He makes me feel golden, if that answers it for you._ "

* * *

 _September 29th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Whenever Brute had to get something off her chest, she always had this face to go with the mood.

Her plumps lips pursed. Eyebrows lined together. Olive-colored eyes bursting with intensity and antipatication. Hands anxiously played with whatever hairstyle she chose for the week; a waist-lengthed slicked-back ebony ponytail was the look of her choice.

The minute Berserk walked into Sedusa's salon before opening, she knew Brute would follow her to the back whenever the orange-haired girl made the decision to.

This came when Berserk noticed she was out of cotton balls at her station. Her heels clicking against the smooth tiling of the store as she went to the supply closet. The sound of Brute's _Doc Martens_ moving quickly against the ground soon followed, like Berserk predicted.

"Berserk, we need to talk."

She glanced over her shoulder at Brute, nodding as she glanced around the small space for the box containing the packages of cotton balls.

"What's up?"

"I don't think I can do this."

"Do what?"

"Be a part of… whatever the fuck it is that you got us into."

Berserk paused in her searching, meeting Brute's eyes. Her thick eyebrows furrowed from frustration and arms crossed defiantly.

She could see why Brute did not want to continue on with Him's plans. It would be betraying humanity and their love ones. Morally, it was incorrect. Logically, making a deal with a demon was never a bright idea.

Out the three of them, Brute was always the one to be more neutral. She floated around various groups in high school; although, Brat and Berserk have still remained her two closest friends.

Brute did not have a darkness in her, like Berserk did; nor was she spineless in any sense, being the complete opposite of Brat.

Berserk should have foreseen Brute's act of defiance. She had portrayed much reluctance to any plans from Him beforehand. Furthermore, Brute did tip off Bubbles about staying away from the lake without any advisorer to do so.

If Brute did not want to be a part of the plans, then she did not have to participate, Berserk saw. However, the orange-haired girl knew Him would not be pleased to lose another key person in his scheme. The repercussions… she did not want to even think about them.

Her mind drifted off to Ace's words from the other day. His obvious hints at how extendable Brute and Brat are to Him.

Either way, Brute was in danger and it was Berserk's fault for convincing them to join her side in all of this. She had to figure out what she believed would keep Brute safe. Furthermore, Berserk had to act as if she was furious at Brute in case of Him making the rare decision to listen in on them instead of those who were against him.

In under thirty seconds, Berserk knew what she had to do. She had to ruin their friendship in order to distance Brute away from Him for as long as she possibly could. Berserk had to burn down the bridge connecting them together before Him made the decision to exploit it for his plans, like he was doing with her and Butch.

Berserk was going to run away from the festering problem she had with Brute because of her allegiances to Him. Her solution was not a true one, and she knew it. Like all her ways to solve any issues in her life, they were only simple escapes from tending to find a resolution.

They were all sneaky pathways of her running away from her own destruction. A step away from the edge of chaos that she forced herself to walk along until she finally grew weary of it. Until she found a new thrill to excite her into becoming terrified again.

As she met Brute's eyes for a brief moment, Berserk believed she may have found the _Holy Grail_ of destructive adrenaline-laced fears with Him and his idea for their world. She easily saw how detrimental Him's plan has become to her life but Berserk could not walk away yet despite the haunting feeling she has held within herself since agreeing.

Berserk was not satisfied yet. She has not tread along the dangerous, narrow line of the impending ruination long enough. Nor has she spent enough time proving to herself that she was still the same person she was once ago.

The person she was before Butch happened.

"If you didn't want to be a part of it, then you shouldn't have agreed that you did," she responded sharply. Berserk watched as Brute wavered a little, having not predicted for her to response in such a cunning way.

While Berserk may be harsh with others, Brute was one of the few exceptions to her icy presence. An exception, she seemed to have gotten too comfortable with.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't need to repeat myself."

Brute blinked at her, baffled by her attitude. A hand went to her hip, as she responded, "Where the hell is all this sass coming from?"

Berserk chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. "I can't believe you're cowering out of this. Especially after the oath you made to Him."

"So?" Brute argued. Her voice went up an octave. Berserk cringed internally, knowing Brute only got this way when she was incredibly upset. "Brick got out of it and nothing has happened to him."

"Brute, you're being naive," she answered, rolling her eyes with exaggration. "Brick hasn't had anything happen to him, _yet._ He will soon get what he deserves when the timing is correct."

"How can… how can you even talk like this?" Brute asked in disbelief. "Determining that it is okay to know about someone's death? Acting like he earned such a fate? _Who the fuck are you, Berserk?_ "

Brute attempted to read her hot pink eyes. To search for any telling signs to this being all some type of a ploy.

Berserk did not allow her to have such access to any of those indications. A wicked smile danced across her bare lips.

"I'm just being my true self," she replied with a false sense of enjoyment. Berserk turned her back towards Brute, discovering the box of cotton balls. Grabbing a package, she headed out of the door, only stopping with her hand on the knob. "Good luck avoiding Brick's fate by the way." She glanced back at Brute over her shoulder, similar to how she did at the start of their conversation. "I'm sure the longer you're around me, the sooner Him and I will have to do something about you. So maybe it's best if you quit."

"You can't be fucking serious, Berserk?" Brute fumed. Her eyebrows shooting upward, her fists balling up together. "You're threatening me?"

"Yes. I am," she nodded calmly. "And I expect a letter of resignation by the end of the week."

Berserk left the room without another word. She half-expected Brute to follow after her and start a scene in the middle of the salon, but they were too professional to do so.

As she unlocked the doors to the salon for the public, Berserk put on a brave face, ignoring the regret of tarnish one of the three friendships she cherished dearly. Even with the knowledge of understanding it was for Brute's own protection, did not settle Berserk's thoughts.

* * *

 _September 30th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

She did not like how the scent of freshly baked bread and chocolate chip cookies made her heart skip a beat for a brief moment. How the smell was forever intertwined with the thought of Butch. She remembered how his clothes and hair used to carry the scent no matter what he did. The warmth and comfort of the baked goods overwhelming her senses whenever she used to grow close to him.

It used to be the smell of safety for her.

 _It still was,_ she acknowledged to herself despite her conscience knowing it was an awful idea to do so.

Her heart must have not gotten the memo that she should not continuous rekindle those feelings after all this time. She could feel her chest hollow out from the want and need to dissociate from those previous memories.

Perhaps coming to Batter Up was not a smart decision. Berserk considered leaving the small bakery but the bell over her head exposed her. In seconds, Fuzzy was coming out of the kitchen to greet her.

"Welcome to Batter—Berserk!" He smiled softly. His eyes gleamed with joy from the sight of her. "I haven't seen you in a long while."

"Yeah," Berserk replied awkwardly as she hesitantly walked over to the counter. Her hand ran through her orange locks to calm the sorrow she felt inside of her.

One of the many crushing realities of breaking up with Butch, meant she no longer had contact with Fuzzy.

She truly missed the old man. They used to have little talks in his kitchen whenever she wandered around Fuzzy's home after her and Butch became official. Berserk loved listening to his stories about his youthful years in Alabama and about his wife, told through his thick southern accent; while Fuzzy was fond of learning various cooking styles used in Latin America from her. Some nights, Berserk simply went over to Butch's house with the singular idea of talking to Fuzzy. Being with Butch afterward, was a lovely bonus to those nights.

In the short months Butch and her were a couple, Berserk grew to love and be comfortable around Fuzzy as she began to see him as a father figure of sorts.

It was not like she was looking for him to be one. Her parents loved her at the right amount they should, although there was a little bit of distance between them due to her being raised by a line of nannies instead of a hands on approach towards parenting during their time in Venezuela. Nonetheless, they loved her and she liked them as much as she could.

Fuzzy, however, had snuck his way into her heart, just like Butch had.

Butch carried all the good traits about Fuzzy… while he received all of his mother's good looks, as Fuzzy would recall along with a " _Thank God_ " as Berserk would chuckle under her breath. He also got all of the qualities Fuzzy had loved about Butch's mom. Fuzzy would repeatedly wonder to Berserk on how he became blessed enough to have a son like Butch.

Her heart would always flutter in delight because she knew it would make Butch happy to hear how highly Fuzzy's spoke about him.

Likewise, she had fondly admired their father-son relationship. How close they were and easily communicated with each other. Berserk knew how special Fuzzy was to Butch, which was why he was willing to do anything for his dad.

It was the reason why Butch's grades were not anything to write about back in high school. He spent too many hours attempting to keep the bakery a float for his dad, to even consider taking time to study or do homework. Their money concerns looming over his head throughout his four years of school. A secret Butch did not share with his friends but told her casually about in bed one night. Butch had also told her about how he even thought about dropping out once but Fuzzy convinced him to stay enrolled.

It was the reason why he would not leave Townsville and why he worked six days a week. It was the reason why Butch was pretty much working for free at the bakery without any complaints.

It was all because Butch loved his dad and he wanted to keep Fuzzy's dream alive.

Berserk had no clue how she fell for someone so selfless, but she found it to be her favorite quality about him.

Furthermore, she had came to terms that there was something about the Lumpkins men that was her own personal kryptonite. Their kind-hearted and hardworking souls held a special type of affection from her.

An affection she could no longer share with them anymore.

As her eyes met the old man behind the counter, Berserk swallowed down the buried away attachment she had for him. "I'm sorry about that."

"Oh please, darling. There's nothing to apologize about," he reassured. His eyes drifted out the door for the moment. "Things happen. New decisions are made. Things end and others begin. That's life."

"But it can be so messy," she smiled gently, causing the man to chuckle lightly.

"Yes, indeed," Fuzzy nodded. He nudged his head over to the case full of supremely decorated pastries. "You here for something sugary to munch on?" A thick eyebrow shot up with curiosity as his voice got a bit lower, "Or are you here for my sweet boy?"

Berserk chewed on the inside of her cheek. Guilt seeping into her with Fuzzy's question. He must think they were getting back together. Which was strange now that she thought about it. Berserk would be surprised if Butch did not tell Fuzzy about Buttercup, considering how close he was with his dad and how incapable he was at keeping details about his romantic life from Fuzzy.

"I need to talk to Butch," she said neutrally.

Berserk did not let any of the confusion nor remorse escape into her voice. On the outside, she seemed calm, cool, and collected. On the inside, however, her entire body was caught up in a storm of agony.

"Sure thing," he grinned before disappearing back into the kitchen. In a few short seconds, Butch came out.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise by her presence. He swiftly wiped off—what appeared to be baby blue colored—frosting from his hands and onto the crisp white apron he wore. Berserk figured he must be doing it to calm his nerves. He always had to move his hands whenever he was nervous—with combing them through his hair as the first option for him.

He wore a soft grey tee shirt underneath his apron and Berserk had resist the urge of wanting to run her hand along the fabric on his chest.

"Hey," he greeted warmly. "What brings you here? Did you change—"

"No," she said sharply. Her eyes drifted over to the door of the bakery as a way to forget how much she ached from being around him. It pissed her off that he had to disrupt the distance they had kept from each other for over a year. That he presented the very idea she has longed for since they broke up. Furthermore, that he was still trying to break through to her despite the walls she was continuously attempting to keep up for him.

It was the same way he got in the first time. His heart over powering the darkness within her. If Butch was going to do it again, he might never be the same. Their circumstances were different now.

She would have to break him if they got back together again. There was no way she would ever be able to do such a thing.

This was why Buttercup and him belonged together. It was easier and Butch would remain true to himself.

After this conversation she has with him, Berserk was going to stay far away from Butch. Maybe then someone else would be equipped with her task instead.

"We do need to talk however," Berserk sighed.

"Okay," he nodded with a slight degree of disappointment. "What's up?"

"We can't talk here."

She could tell he immediately picked up on what she hinted at. His eyes growing a darker shade of emerald as he stripped off his apron.

"I'm going on break," he shouted at the doorway to the kitchen, placing his apron on a coat rack. Butch then dug his car keys out of the pockets of his jeans. "Let's go."

* * *

The car ride out of Townsville was mainly silent. Butch did attempt to make conversation but she only gave him short and vague answers. Anything to keep things from getting emotional intimate between them. She, however, did not resist from asking him one question as they passed the city limits for Townsville.

"You didn't tell Fuzzy about Buttercup?"

"What?" He questioned initially, caught of guard by her question before letting it fully sink in. "Oh. Um. He does know about her." Butch cleared his throat, easily expressing the discomfort he felt from her inquire. "Why the question?"

Berserk rolled her eyes to fake a sense of not caring. "He seems to want us together."

"Ah."

"He's not a fan of her?"

Butch glanced at Berserk from the corner of his eye. A small smile pulled at his lips.

"He likes her just fine. But he does know that she broke my heart and like any parent, he can be leery of her from time to time."

"He must hate me then," she murmured. Her gaze keeping track of the cacti they passed by.

"He, um…" Butch coughed subtlety to himself. "He doesn't. I told him that I was the one who screwed things up."

"Why would you tell him that?"

"Because I did screw us up," he mumbled.

Berserk glanced over to him. Her eyes traced over his profile like she has done hundreds of times before as he drove. Nothing has changed about him physically. He was still intriguing to her despite his basic features.

The only difference she could spot within him was his light-hearted spirit seemed to falter. He seemed older. More solemn. She wondered if it had anything to with her.

She did not correct him. Perhaps it was because Berserk did not want to dive into the murky waters of their breakup. Or maybe it was because she did not want to explain to Butch on how wrong he was. Either way, Berserk did not want to continue with the conversation. Instead, she remained quiet until she advised him to pull over for them to talk.

He pulled over onto the dry desert sand. The grains crunched under his tires. As he parked the car, with neither of them discussing it, they exited the car and went to the front of the car. They both took a seat on the front hood like they used to back when they were together.

"You're fucked," she muttered to him with no context once she got settled onto the hot thin metal of his car.

"You're working with Him, aren't you?" He asked disappointedly.

She narrowed her eyes at him for a second, "How did you find out about Him?"

"Brick," Butch shrugged.

"Oh."

"So you're working for Him?"

"...Yes," Berserk breathed.

"Why?"

"Him promised me that he'll give me the world if I helped him. I'm not dumb enough to trust him but I could not resist the offer he made..." Her gaze lingered on Butch. His eyes stared back at her with anguish. She was breaking his heart with her awful decision-making. He must have expected more of her. Butch and his damn heart cared too much about her. "I've always liked walking the thin line of destruction anyways," she said with a whisper and a lazy shrug.

He stayed mum for a long time. It must have been ten minutes before he said anything to her. His hand lightly encased her's.

"Berserk." She ignored the bleak feeling in her heart from him reframing to use her real name. Berserk had to remind herself that she told him to stop calling her that. She should be happy that he listened but, truthfully, it tore her up more inside than she expected. "I can't let you—"

"Him wants you," she interjected, not wanting Butch to finish his sentence. Berserk had a strange feeling as to what he was going say and she could not bear hearing it outloud. It would only make Him closer to achieving the task she was equipped with. "He wants to break your good nature. Change into… Into someone like me—"

"Berserk—"

"And I'm the one in charge of doing it," Berserk finished, talking over him instead of listening to whatever he was going to say to reassure her. She propped herself off of the hood, landing her feet on the desert ground. Berserk stood, her vision looking over the horizon of the landscape. "I wanted to warn you beforehand. To let you know that you should stay away from me if you know what is good for you."

She gave him one last glance. His eyes grew dull from the reality she was presenting him. Whatever thoughts he was having about them, Berserk surely knew they were going to disappear.

They never did get closure the first time. No correct ending. A lack of resolution to their feelings for each other.

Now they did. They could not be together unless Butch wanted to be destroyed. And it was not even his decision to make either because Berserk was hellbent on making sure it would never happen in the first place.

This was the long overdue closing chapter for them.

Even with this truth, Berserk still was not happy. It did not make her feel any better about them. Nor did it fix whatever she felt for him. But she was stuck with it.

Without saying a word, she used her abilities, blurring away from Butch's eyesight and running in a high speed back to Townsville. She was once again running away from him and everything she felt for him. Running back into the town that she has made a vow to ruin.

* * *

 _February 14th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

"That went a lot better than I expected," Butch commented, following Berserk into her room. His hand loosely entwined with her's as she closed the door behind them. Emerald eyes examined the space, having been welcomed in for the first time in their relationship.

Berserk lived towards the end of the "Rich Pines" road, meaning her family was one of the wealthiest in town. Although their home was not comparable in size to Morbucks Manor, her parents made sure to make their living space as extravagant as they could; adding updated fixtures, gaudy decorating, and the newest appliances money could buy.

She wondered what caught Butch's eyes the most. It could be the wall full of various band posters from the seventies to the present; her four poster canopy bed; or the vanity full of high-priced, high-quality, and high-branded makeup. Perhaps he was astonished by the size of her room being twice of what his was or how she had a bathroom that was comparable to the size of his own bedroom, which contained a heart-shaped jetted bathtub and waterfall shower. It could also be the French doors along her western wall, allowing access to the outside world without any restrictions.

There was a lot to catch his eyes when viewing her room for the first time. The thought of it, sent her stomach into somersaults. In a way, Berserk found this to be extremely intimate. For some reason, it felt as if she was sharing one of her deepest secrets with him. Sharing her own personal sanctuary with him. No guy has seen her room before nor she ever thought about allowing one to do so. Butch would also be the first person since Brute and Brat to have seen the space. A fact in which made the reality of how serious they were in such a short span of time all too real to her.

Her anxiety derived from the overwhelming affection she felt for him and received equally from him.

Tonight was also the first time he met her parents. Another occasion Berserk had never foreseen for anyone beforehand or pictured doing until she was at least in her mid-twenties.

Regardless of what she had originally predicted, Berserk had found herself to be nervous for the night ever since her mom insisted on him coming over for their family Valentine's Day dinner. Both her and Butch wanted her parents to find him to be likable without any issues.

Luckily, her mom and dad were fond and easily charmed by Butch within the first ten minutes of meeting him. Her dad and him enjoyed a lengthy discussion about the _Arizona Diamondbacks_ while her mom promised to share her quesillo recipe with him.

"What did you expect to happen?" She asked softly, leading him to her bed to settle down. Both took up a respective side of her plush mattress, with Berserk kicking off her heels and Butch doing the same with his dress shoes. Her fingers went to his neck tie, undoing the knot for him and tossing the fabric onto a nearby nightstand.

"I don't know… something more like _The Godfather_ , I guess?" He grinned with a light chuckle.

Berserk rolled her eyes with grin. Her hand combed through his dark hair. "If my dad was anything like that, I'm fully sure you would have been dead by now."

"You're not wrong."

"When am I ever?"

Butch flashed a toothy smile, grabbing Berserk's waist and rolling over on top of her. His lips brushed against her's, murmuring, "You never are."

When he kissed her, Berserk could feel electricity running through her veins, exciting her body from his touch. Her toes curled from the lively emotions crawling around inside of her.

In what she thought was heading another way, Berserk did not expect to find Butch pulling away, lifting his head up two inches away from her. He placed his hand on her left cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone, tracking a little bit of the gold-tinted highlighter she wore onto his finger. His eyes shining with a tender adoration as they traced every detail of her face.

Her lips curled into a soft smile. Blood red nails dug into his scalp gently. Her hot pink eyes doing the same as his.

Berserk found herself more pleased by the tender moment than what she originally thought they were going to do.

"Thank you for coming tonight," she whispered.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he answered quietly. "I actually enjoyed it way more than I originally thought I was."

"For someone who thought he was going be in a situation similar to _The_ _Godfather_ , I would hope so."

Butch chuckled lightly as their conversation dimmed down for a length of time, leaving them in the comfortable silence of each other's arms. Butch had rolled off of her after sometime, taking up the space beside her. His arm hugging her waist as they decided to lay on their sides, his body pressed against her back.

"Your parents are kind of cute together," he acknowledged in a whisper.

"They are," Berserk laughed subtlety. "Makes you almost forgot about the millions they stole from the people in our hometown."

"Yeah, definitely," Butch deadpanned. "They're like the Latin version of _Bonnie and Clyde_ … You know, without all the murdering and dramatic shootouts."

"Sure."

"Wait," Butch lifted his head up for a moment. "Are you saying…"

"I'm not confirming or denying something I'm not entirely sure on."

"Oh… Okay." Butch rested his head back down. "With that in consideration, am I good being in here alone with you? Like I'm not going to end up on a _Dateline_ special after tonight, right?"

Berserk chuckled under her breath, lightly tracing her fingers against his forearm. "My parents are aware that I don't spend most nights in my room and they're smart enough to connect the dots as to where I am."

"And they don't have a problem with it? I thought they were super into Catholicism."

"They are but they also respect that I can make my own decisions. Besides, they have no room to talk considering they've been together since they were fifteen."

"Damn."

"I know," Berserk agreed quietly. "And they didn't have me until they were thirty… they had fifteen years together, just the two of them, and didn't get sick of each other."

"That's true love, right there," Butch replied, squeezing Berserk a little with the arm wrapped around her. His warm breath hitting her neck, sending goosebumps across her body. Her mind in disbelief by what he was implying to her but could not deny the glee she felt for the idea.

"Perhaps…"

"... Do you believe in things like that?"

"Like what?"

"Soulmates. True love. Destiny and all those ideas rom-coms try to sell us," he answered.

Berserk took a moment to think over his question. A faint sigh escaped out of her lips before she spoke.

"I believe that we're destined to certain events in our lifetime but we have control over what fills in the gaps that get us there," she explained, turning over to face him. Her hand found a home in between his shoulder blade and neck; her blood red nails played with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Soulmates and true love, however, I think are a way to commercialism love. Like to sell _Hallmark_ cards and what not..."

"Oh," Butch winced playfully. "A little harsh there, love."

Berserk shrugged her shoulder, "You asked for my opinion." She scooted her body closer to him, leaving no space between them. Her leg wrapped around him. "What about you? You believe in it?"

"Sometimes I do," he whispered. "When I see people like your parents or when Fuzzy tells me about his relationship with my mom, I find myself agreeing with the possibility."

"But?"

"But I'm not sure it's worth investing in. Those ideas, I mean," he cleared up briskly. His fingers lightly scratched Berserk's back. He was trying to ease his nerves, she noted as Butch explained himself further. "I just… I think getting caught up in believing in the need to find your soulmate and one true love, can distract you from experiencing life. I know firsthand what it is like to have your mind set on one forever when there were way better options out there for me." Berserk smiled shyly at him, attempting to bury her face in his chest to prevent him from noticing but Butch caught her by placing his hand on her cheek again. His fingers tucked a loose strand of her orange hair behind her ear. Emerald eyes studied her tenderly, "Especially the one where I got to know this sharp-tongued, self-assured, hard-working orange-haired beauty. That," he nodded his head forward once, "has been better than anything I had originally planned for myself."

Berserk wanted him to repeat himself. She wanted to hear him say everything one more time to calm the nagging negative thoughts within herself in which did not believe any of this was actually true. To make sure this was truly her reality than some sort of fantasy she had cooked up in her head.

To relieve the pesky fears she may have from time to time of him deciding she was simply a distraction in the way of him and _her_.

But Butch had drawn her into kiss, interrupting any thoughts she may have had as her body was jolted alive with electricity.

She did not bother to ask him about it while they laid in her bed naked before dozing off to sleep, nor when they woke up in the morning and parted for the day. His words had become an intangible ideal to her.

* * *

 _October 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Berserk was not sure how her mom roped her into getting groceries. She knew how busy her daughter's schedule was but insisted on Berserk going instead of her.

On the bright side, she was the best looking person in the entire grocery store. Even under the disgusting fluorescent lighting, Berserk knew she still looked flawless. A few individuals would prove this by stopping whatever they were doing to stare at her for a short time.

It was one of the most satisfying and vindicating feelings for her.

To know that she could have anyone eating out the palm of her hands solely based on her looks. It was a weapon she liked to keep in her arsenal. An effective one on top of it.

But there were also downfalls to her beauty, such as when she was reduced to just being a pretty face. A truth she should expect when using her good looks to her advantage. The difference being, she liked exploiting it for her own benefit, not for someone else's. When a individual would make her out to be nothing more than an object to desire than a person. That idea was the reason why she grew a bad reputation during her high school years.

Rumors were made to put her down due to others' insecurities. She was no longer seen as she truly was but as Berserk Sanchez, the "hostile vixen who would steal your man". Never mind that she never dated any of her classmates when they were in attendance.

Nor that she was as fiery or loud as everyone presented her to be. Sure, she would give a person a piece of her mind whenever they dared to say anything to her face, which was a rare occurrence all together; but mainly Berserk had gotten associated with that characteristic after tearing one of the rumor starters a new one during her freshmen year. A popular senior girl on top of it, resulting in the punishment of becoming known as the "motormouth, boyfriend stealer" of North Townsville High School.

Not to mention, Berserk felt as if she may have been stereotyped to be a feisty Latina by her ignorant classmates.

On top of the persistent rumors, no guy would take her seriously. They all believed she was a promiscuous being, willing to do everything and anything with them. As if she did not have standards and she was just a "simple bitch to fuck with" until a good girl came around to change them and their playboy ways.

Even after high school, Berserk was still associated with those labels. Other than gawking over her beauty, there was always whispers that followed. Whispers continuing to spread false information around.

There was no where for her to run away from the misleading words about her. At times, Berserk could even feel them getting to her. She was constantly on edge with the thought of getting close to people who were only interested in her because of her appearance. That she could never lose control of her anger or she would become the stereotype her classmates made her out to be. Furthermore, Berserk had the nagging feeling no guy would ever choose her. She would always be the second choice. The fun, on the side choice.

She had thought Butch would be the one to change her mind but he eventually proved her otherwise. He went back to his first choice, carrying on a serious relationship with the girl that everyone would want him to be with over her. Their months together were simply just fun for him until Buttercup came running back to him with newly discovered feelings.

 _But he wants you again_ , Berserk reminded herself as she placed the last item in her cart. She puffed out a heavy breath, not letting herself get any sense of hope from his words. Butch could say a lot of things, she had determined, but his actions speak louder. His actions being the fact he ran back to Buttercup the minute they broke up despite repeatedly telling Berserk that he was over the green-eyed girl. For all she knew, he could only be saying all of this because he missed the sex.

That was probably it, she decided. Berserk did not listen to the faint voice in her head repeating that it was not true. Instead, she wheeled her cart full of foods to a check out line. With only one line open, Berserk piled her items onto the conveyor belt as she waited for the woman in front of her to finish checking out. She grabbed a magazine to pass the time, skimming through the pages of celebrity fact and fiction.

Berserk moved her cart forward as the cashier began scanning her items. Her eyes remained on the tabloids until she heard a person clear their throat.

She looked up at them with a bored expression. Her eyebrow raised for a brief second when the cashier was revealed to be Buttercup.

"Are you paying for that?" The dark-haired girl asked with a hint of resentment in her voice, gesturing towards the magazine. Her hands moving in a swift pace as she continued to scan Berserk's food.

Berserk eyed her with an icy stare. The polyester slime green polo she wore was an atrocious sight to be seen. So was the dingy khaki pants Buttercup had on. It almost made Berserk feel bad for her to have to subject herself to be a fashion victim like this.

 _Almost_.

The only saving grace was Buttercup's natural good looks. Her angular cheekbones, olive skin tone, and paralyzing green eyes were the optimum of Western European beauty. Berserk could see why Butch had fallen for Buttercup despite her piss-poor attitude and selfishness.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" Buttercup said through her teeth. A thick layer of tension enveloping them into a bubble. They both stared at each other in a tight standoff.

"I see that polite customer service doesn't exist here," Berserk answered coldly, returning the magazine to where it originally laid. "Perhaps I should talk to your manager to change this."

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows together, balling her hands up in fists. "What the hell is your damage?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"What the fuck is your problem with me?"

"Like it's not a mutual one," Berserk chuckled dryly. She tilted her head to a degree. A smug attitude radiating from her body, infuriating Buttercup even more.

She loved making Buttercup feel inferior. It was payback, in a sense. For making Berserk become insercure over a boy. For taking a way the one person Berserk has ever loved. But mainly, for all the shit she had put Butch through before her and during their secret relationship. For breaking his heart but expecting that she could be the only one to meddle it back together again.

Buttercup was a thoughtless, bitter, and inconsiderate bitch, in Berserk's eyes. That was why, whenever she had the opportunity to do so, the orange-haired girl took it upon herself to push Buttercup's buttons relentless with enjoyment.

Even if was against her better judgement. Even if it was guided by envious emotions. Even if the only reason she had ever made the conscious effort to remember who Buttercup was, was because of Butch. Even if she should not even care about antagonizing Buttercup anymore since she should be over Butch and should not have a single thought towards the green-eyed girl because of it.

It was a vicious and nasty habit she could not quit. A habit in which revealed to Berserk that she was no where near getting over her situation with Butch.

In the grand scheme of things, Buttercup was simply collateral with the issues she has with Butch. Deep down, she knew it was wrong of her to methodically get a rise out of the green-eyed girl.

But Berserk was not one to follow what was right and wrong. There were too many shades of grey to her perspective towards Buttercup, which allowed her to be as cunning as she wanted to be towards her.

"But considering that everyone, except your two friends and Princess, are leery of you, it doesn't seem like I'm invalid to not liking you."

"And you're such a great person?" She snorted.

Buttercup grinned smugly, "Compared to you? Yeah. I am."

"Right." Berserk nodded. Her voice was frigid and detached from any multitude of emotion. "Because when I'm compared to someone who is so incredibly selfish that they expect everything to be theirs, I'm the terrible person."

"Excuse me?" Buttercup scoffed.

Berserk leaned closer onto the counter separating them. Neither of them noticed the line forming behind her. They were too focused on the incredible amount of disdain they had for one another to care.

"You think everything should be how you want it." Berserk arched an eyebrow, staring at Buttercup like she was a speckle of dirt. "No matter how inconvenient it is, or how it may affect someone else's life, it has to be your way. If it's not, you flip out. You're inconsiderate to everyone's feelings and it's always their fault if something doesn't go your way. From what I heard, that's what you did to your redheaded friend. You threw a fit because she wanted to do something for herself but it wasn't what you wanted. It's why you're more like you're mother than you think…"

She paused for a second, considering if she should continue. Berserk knew it was best if she did not since it would only start problems between Buttercup and Butch. It would make Butch believe that she was attempting to break them up. She should not say anything but Berserk was too overcome by the bottled up ill feelings she had towards Buttercup because of their secret, she did not want to hold it back anymore.

Her composure shattered in under one second as she expressed the rare sight of emotion. There was anger. Jealousy. Sorrow. Regret. Heartache. It was all combined into one. Her eyes grew darker and darker as she spoke.

"Even with Butch, when you realized you loved him, you expected him to still feel the same after two years. You never once questioned if he moved on or should have moved on. You wanted him to only have interest in you," Berserk explained. Her tone was firm and distance but also accompanied by a small sense of agony. The feeling followed behind her words as it tried it's best to keep up with her. "You were selfish enough to think time paused for him from the minute you rejected him to the second you told him that you felt something for him. He has a life outside of you, yet, you never seemed to care enough to stop and learn about it. You never asked what he wanted, you only assumed." Her voice fell a little as she finished, "All you cared about was getting him to be your's. It wouldn't even surprise me if you didn't truly love him…"

Berserk waited for Buttercup to response. She tapped her foot for a moment before realizing that her words had paralyzed the girl. Berserk rolled her eyes at Buttercup's inability to handle the truth, ripping out her freshly printed receipt and wheeled her cart towards the exit. Just as the automatic doors opened, Berserk heard Buttercup's gritty voice behind her.

"Where do you think you're going?" She shouted, stomping her way over to the orange-haired girl, much to the annoyance of the customers left in line.

"Home."

"Oh no, you—"

"Excuse me, Miss—"

"In a minute," Buttercup snapped back to her line of customers. She turned to Berserk again, glaring with menace. "You're such a fucking bitch. You know that?"

"I'm well aware," she nodded boredly. "But I'm not the only one."

"You're just—Ugh," Buttercup groaned in frustration. She began jabbing her fingers into Berserk's shoulder. "You're the most infuriating person I have ever met. First you suck up to my mom. Then you're obsessed with Butch—"

"I'm not obsessed with Butch," Berserk interrupted coldly. She then grabbed Buttercup's fingers, tightening her fist around them.

"Yeah, sure," the dark-haired girl snorted. "If you're not obsessed with him, then why do you keep bring him up? Huh?"

Berserk stared back at her without any expression. "You still haven't figured it out yet? You're really that dense?"

"Dense?" Buttercup repeated in confusion. "What the fuck—"

"Can I leave now?" She asked boredly, releasing Buttercup's fingers. "Unlike you, I have to go home to my mom, and she actually likes me as a mother should." Hot pink eyes looked the green-eyed girl up and down with indifference. "Which is something you'll never be able to understand."

Berserk watched as she saw something finally snap inside of Buttercup. The dark-haired girl balled up her fist again, raising it in the air. She was moments away from punch Berserk square in the face.

Just as she was about to, the doors behind Berserk slid open and a soft voice was heard gasping.

"Buttercup!"

Before either of them knew it, Buttercup's redheaded friend was breaking them apart. Her touch lightly grazed against Berserk's mocha skin.

"You both need to calm down…" she trailed off, her eyes going blank.

* * *

 _Date unknown_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Time unknown_

Bleak.

It was the one, singular word stuck in her head the entire time.

From the grief-stricken faces and the dark attire to the charcoal-colored wood of the casket, there was not an ounce of anything other than gloom and misery.

Not even the pounding Arizona sun cascading a bright afternoon could change anyone's attitude.

They all stood soledomly along the six foot long wooden box. An open casket was chosen for the occasion. Turquoise was the shade of the silky lining of the interior. Golden blonde hair fanned out against the surface while cerulean eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids, forever shut out from the devastation of the world.

Berserk could feel a sense of disappointment at the decision to apply a pink lipstick to Brat's lifeless face. She would have preferred a bold red, like she always did for the major events during her brief life.

A priest droned on about biblical notions and the sadness in his heart for such a young life cut short.

Berserk should be listening. She should be standing next to Brat's mother like Brute was bravely doing, attempting to comfort the, now, childless mother.

Yet she stood, rooted in place towards the back of the crowd with a guilt conscience tattling off all of the things she could have done differently.

All of the ways she could have saved Brat.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she jumped in her stance, her body alerting her to the arm snaking around her waist. It took her a few seconds to realize it was Butch, not needing to turn around to confirm it. She leaned her head full of orange hair into the dark fabric of his suit.

"She would have hated this," Berserk whispered into his chest.

"It is a bit too drab for Brat," he agreed as she felt his thumb carry out small circles into her hip bone. "There should be at least a soundtrack of the most depressing punk songs playing in the background of all of this to make it more personal."

Berserk let out a spiritless chuckle at his attempt to cheer her up with his humor as her mind could not help making the gut-retching acknowledgement that she could not share new music with Brat anymore. It was such a small, little thing but the thought of it, sent Berserk overboard. Her arms wrapped around his torso tightly, diving her face into his body more to hide the showcase of tears in her eyes.

She has cried more in the short span of days than she had during her entire childhood.

Butch did not say anything. His hand moved up to rub her upper back while she stained his suit jacket with tears mixed in with, what should be waterproof, mascara.

It was a familiar reaction of his' to her since Brat has been gone. Three days of water stains on his shoulders, snot drying up on her nose, and a lack conversation or laughter between the two. She has also been sleeping over his house too. Not coming out of his room, barely eating or showering. The salon has been shut down for the past few days because of the tragedy, leaving Berserk to lay in his bed and stare up at the white ceiling, knowing deep down that even if Sedusa had chosen not to close the salon for the week, she would have called out every single day.

Berserk has never let herself get trapped in such a bleak headspace before. She no longer felt capable of doing anything. In the past, no matter what was going on in her life, she always took care of herself. Working at the salon, doing her makeup, keeping her dietary regime in order… they were all things that helped her cope but Berserk found no motivation to do any of those things.

It was quite a miracle that she had even composed herself long enough to attend the funeral for Brat, but after a pep talk from Butch about how much she would regret it if she did not go, Berserk knew she could not miss out on the last chance to be with Brat physically.

She made the hard decision to break away from the safety of Butch's suit, glancing up at him. Those emerald eyes she has fallen more in love with as each new day passed, ignited an electric sense of comfort in her.

The question as to how he could be with her like this has crossed her mind a lot when she was not thinking about Brat. How he could still find her attractive after seeing dried up boogers on her nose or how greasy her orange hair has gotten from the lack of washing. How he could find any sympathy for her heartache for something that was her fault.

The problem was, she knew the answer to her questions. It was two simple answers, really. The first being, he loves her unconditional, no matter what she looked like or how she was behaving. The second one was, he did not think it was her fault.

He believed it was Ace's. Just like everyone else who was there that unfortunate night...

* * *

 _October 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Is she going to let me go?" Berserk questioned dryly.

"You're just lucky that she showed up," Buttercup retorted, pushing forward towards Berserk again but was stopped by the redhead regaining her strength again from becoming conscious.

"Enough," she announced firmly. The redhead tossed her eyes between the two, settling on Buttercup before sighing.

Berserk took the opportunity to slip out the doors of the grocery store while the two were distracted with each other. She was about five feet from her mom's car that she was borrowing for the day when the redhead's voice was calling out for her.

"Berserk, wait!" She exclaimed, taking a few more rushed steps in order to stop in front of Berserk. Her pale cheeks grew a rosy color from the quick movement. "Can we… can we talk?" She huffed out as she tried to catch her breath.

"Not if this for to me to apologize to your friend."

"It's not."

Berserk eyed her with a lack of interest. She took notice to how everything about the redhead was soft. From the silky copper hair on her head and gentle rose-colored eyes to her milky white skin and voice. The floral sundress adorned by her added more to her sweet appearance. Yet, Berserk could tell by how the redhead held herself, that she was anything but the innocence that seemed to portray her. She could command an entire room with her presence if she needed to.

She had the same aura surrounding her that her mother had, minus the overall political agenda that was supplemented with a more friendlier tone.

Berserk rolled her eyes, unlocking her mom's car, rolling the cart to the trunk and placing the bags of groceries in the vehicle.

"You have five minutes."

"Okay," she breathed, sounding more surprised than anything. A pale hand combed through her hair as she pursed her lips for a second. "I don't know how to approach this but I, um… I know about you and Butch."

Berserk paused, placing a plastic bag back down into the cart with a thump. Her eyes narrowed at the redhead. "I'm sure your little friend put you up to this."

"She didn't. I swear," the redhead pleaded. Berserk did not want to believe her but there was a nagging voice inside of her that lead her to see that pink-eyed girl was being genuine.

"Then you should stay out of it."

"But—"

"Look. I don't even care enough about you to remember what your name is, so do you think I want to hear about your attempt to understand my personal, private life?"

That shut her up. Her jaw cletching as Berserk placed the last of her groceries in the car. The slamming of the car trunk being the only thing heard between them.

Berserk made her way to the driver side of the car when she heard the redhead make another attempt at a conversation with her.

"He never stopped loving you," she said quietly. Her eyes downcasting to the cracked black concrete of the parking lot.

Her heart sped up a degree, her body tensing up.

"What are—"

She looked up from the ground, meeting Berserk square in the eye. "I don't know what exactly happened between you and him. I don't know why or how it happened but I can say I know how deep it was for both of you." She took a step forward towards Berserk, lowering her voice a bit in case of any eavesdroppers. "And while I am angry with Butch for keeping this secret from Buttercup, I do only want the best for him."

Berserk could feel her body begin to grow jittery. The background around them becoming a kaleidoscope of colors in accelerating speed yet her and the redhead seemed to move in a sluggish pace compared to Berserk's surroundings. Her heart beat pumped loudly in her ears.

She could feel every single movement around her. The kinetic engery intensifying around her and the redhead, who was unaware of the perspective of motion that Berserk had.

"Are you trying to tell me to get back with him?" She questioned skeptically. "Your friend isn't going to appreciate that."

"I'm not," she answered neutrally. "When I said I only want the best for him, I truly mean it." She shifted her weight, arching an eyebrow. "Which is why I hope you wouldn't mind me asking what exactly are your intentions with him?"

"Like if I intent to get back with him?" Berserk asked in a dull tone despite the raging fountain of mixed emotions sprouting inside of her.

"Yes."

"Last time I checked, he has a girlfriend."

"Yes, but—"

"It's best if he stays with her," she interjected.

"Even if he loves you?"

Berserk stared down at the redhead, amazed by the ballsiness she possessed to ask her such a thing. Today may be the first time they even spoke to each other, Berserk acknowledged to herself.

She cleared her throat, running a hand through her orange hair to ignore the memories of Butch in her mind.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Berserk confessed in a low whisper. "Knowing that he still loves me is more painful than you realize. The fact I still…" She stopped herself from continuing, shaking her head from admitting out loud her true feelings. To a stranger, nonetheless. "It doesn't matter. _We both know where my loyalties lie_." The girl did not flinch at the mention of Him. Her rose-colored eyes narrowed slightly for a split second before returning to a neutral expression. "And because of that, I'm doing whatever I can to prevent Butch from getting hurt in any possible way. If that means he stays with Buttercup and we never get back together, then that's that."

The redhead stayed quiet for a few seconds before sighing.

"I… I'm so sorry. I shouldn't… I shouldn't have brought this up."

Berserk nodded without realizing. The world around her began moving at slower pace like before. The energy inside of her calming down as she did the same. Her hot pink eyes traced over the parking lot. There was a family of four heading into the store, a woman leaving with a new broom, and a couple walking together, hand and hand. The heatwave and the internal heat from the redhead's questions were melting her icy composure, but so were the thoughts of Butch's love.

A small simmer of a pleasant warmth flooded into her systems, met with the cold harsh truth that she could do nothing about it. This was a regular occurance for her ever since she ran into Butch at Princess' Labor Day party.

"It's fine," Berserk huffed out, crossing her arms. "You're just… trying to be a good friend."

"Doesn't mean I have the authority to dive into your personal business."

"You're not wrong," she chuckled without meaning to. It simply came out along with her words.

The redhead smiled at her. A kind and gentle smile. It was one of the most sincere smiles Berserk has seen in awhile.

"It's Blossom, by the way."

"Huh?"

"My name," she laughed off. "It's Blossom."

"Oh," Berserk smiled faintly, cocking her head to a degree. "It fits."

"Maybe so," Blossom grinned briefly. Her eyes glanced back over to the store. A deep exhale escaped from her lips. "I should check up on Buttercup." Berserk rolled her eyes at the mention of the dark-haired girl. Blossom gave Berserk one last look, "Thank you for not trying to hurt Butch despite the circumstances we're under right now."

The orange-haired girl stared up at the sky, noting the lack of clouds in sight. Her mind wondering why Blossom was being kind to her when Berserk was working for Him. She should hate her. She should take this opportunity to destroy her, but instead, Blossom was behaving as if she wanted to be her friend.

"And thank you for looking out for him," Berserk answered with a hint of skepticism but also had some genuine gratitude to it.

"Of course. I love Butch like he's my older brother."

"Yeah…" she smiled fondly. "I remember him saying things like that."

Berserk looked back down at Blossom, becoming aware of her sympathetic pink eyes. Her body reacted negatively to her stare, unable to process the unconditional kindness shed onto her about this topic in which she expected Blossom to be hostile and spiteful about it. She should not deserve such a reaction. Berserk was supposed to be the bad person in Blossom's eyes when considering her relationship with Buttercup, not someone to pity.

When considering that Berserk was playing a part in plotting out the redhead and her friends' downfall.

It was a gesture that Berserk did not want nor need to ease her troubled mind.

Her hand began to reach out for the handle of the car door.

"You should get back to your friend," she mumbled under her breath, slipping into the driver seat of the car.

"Berserk, I—"

She did not hear what Blossom had to say since she closed the door without any hesitation. Turning the key in the ignition, Berserk did not look back at the redhead. More so, she did not allow herself to recount their conversation in her head on the way back to her home.

* * *

 _May 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

It was her senior prom and Berserk could care less about the event.

As she watched her classmates dance and fool around, from a seat in the back of the school's gymnasium, she questioned what was the point of her even showing up. Brat was off with her new flavor of the week while Brute was not even there, choosing to spend a weekend at Joshua Tree for a concert. She could hang out with Princess Morbucks, the only other person she could spend time with other than the punks, but the redhead was busy with gathering votes for prom queen.

As she tossed her hot pink eyes around the room, Berserk made the acknowledgment of how she did not have the slight interest in a single person and their lives at her high school other than her three friends. In the four years of her education, she never did befriend anyone else. Maybe she was being a bit too judgemental to have had a chance to get acquainted with someone or perhaps it was everyone else's censorious views of her that prevented it from happening but Berserk did not truly feel any regrets about it.

No one else has ever been worth her time, in her mind.

She sighed in frustration by the new thought probing through her brain. Her conscience repeatedly reminding her of the one person who was worth every single second spent with.

The one person who she broke up with because of her insecurities.

Berserk tilted her head as she stared out at the dance floor. She imagined what the night would have been like if Butch had been her date. When they were together, they had planned to go public tonight. Berserk knew he had been looking forward to this night for awhile. He was excited to finally be able to say he loves her outloud for everyone to hear.

She grimaced to herself at the fact she shattered his hopes for the night. At the remembrance that she broke his heart but also her own in the process. There was no winner in their situation, and it was all her own doing.

If she could, Berserk would take it back. She would not have panicked about him being with Buttercup that day. Instead, she should have given him a chance to explain himself.

She could have at least made the decision to not ignore him for the last month.

Perhaps they would have gotten back together by now. Berserk knew she would take him back in a heartbeat.

Berserk quickly rose from the chair, realizing that these notions did not need to be trapped inside of her. She could make them a reality. All she had to do, was tell him.

She left the venue without a word, ordering a car service to transport her to Batter Up, figuring he was still there to clean up the space.

The car ride seemed to drag on as the anticipation was killing her. The pounding of her heart was heavy in her chest and she could not stop fiddling with her fingers. She did not bother saying thank you to her driver because of the sense of urgency within her wanted to rush into the store.

As she took quick steps up to the glass door of the bake shop, Berserk stopped midway, paralyzed.

For a few seconds, Berserk swore her heart stopped itself. Maybe it did from shock. Or maybe it was from a piece of it being lost in the crumbling of her heartbreak.

The sight of Buttercup in Butch's arms, inches away from each other, gave her the sobering truth.

He has moved on.

He went back to her, like Berserk has always believed he would.

She was only a temporary chapter in his love story with Buttercup.

Berserk stepped away from the store, swallowing the bitter pill of reality. Of the realization that she was a fool all along. She ran away from Butch and what she felt for him, pushing him back into Buttercup's arms.

She was too late. In this moment, there was a winner and a loser, and she rightfully deserved the title of being the loser.

With one last glance, Berserk did what she did best. She ran away from him. From the sight of him and Buttercup together in her mind. From any thoughts of getting back together with him. It was finally time she took the step away from ledge. To say goodbye to Butch.

Her mind acknowledged how she was correct. She should have never believed a good guy like Butch could ever truly love a girl like her. Not when there would always be a better option over her.

* * *

 _October 2nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

It was a slow day at the salon, which meant Sedusa allowed Berserk to go home early. She was quite surprised by this since they were going to be short staffed now with Brute having quit the day before. A fact in which derived a mixture of thoughts for Berserk, half being relieved by knowing Brute would be safe for the time being and the other saddened by the damage done to their friendship.

However, Berserk was not going to complain about having a few extra hours to spare to herself. Between her job and the odd hours in which Him summoned her, Berserk did not have much time to relax.

She intended on cleaning out her vanity and then take a bubble bath when she arrived home but twenty minutes into washing her makeup brushes, her mom was calling her to come downstairs. Setting her brushes on her bathroom sink and wiping away a few water droplets from her hands on a cashmere hand towel, Berserk took in a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever task her mom was going to send her on for the afternoon.

When Berserk made her way down the stairs of her home, she began to hear the echoes of a conversation between her mom and a person with a deep voice. It was not her dad but their voice was familiar to her, Berserk determined, and once she reached the bottom step, it become obvious who it was.

Emerald eyes shocked their way into her core with their brief stare before returning them back to her mom.

"I still try but it never comes out as perfectly as your's did," he commented to her mom. They must be talking about quesillo, Berserk figured as she stood firmly in place, paralyzed by Butch's sudden appearance in her living room.

"I'm sure you're just being too hard on yourself," her mom laughed off despite being flattered. She tossed her head back to the stairs, opening her mouth to call out for Berserk again but stopped once she saw her daughter. Her mom glanced back and forth between the two, "I'll take this as my cue to leave." She placed a hand on Butch's shoulder, saying "It was nice seeing you again, Butch," before exiting the space in favor of the kitchen.

Butch was the first one to move, making his way to the staircase with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

A bouquet of burgundy roses, she noted once he stood in front of her. Hot pink eyes lingered on the dark delicate petals.

"What are those for?"

"They're for you."

Berserk let out a tired sigh, meeting his eyes. "You shouldn't be buying me flowers, Butch."

"I know," he mumbled, running his free hand through his hair. "I just… I wanted a do-over." He glanced back at her front door and then to her. "I want to redo the day you called. When I canceled our date. I want to have another shot at it."

Her stance began to falter at the remembrance of that day. Of the night she went without sleep due to her ill conscience probing her repeatedly with her insecurities. When she made the assumption her relationship with Butch was going to crash and burn soon due to Buttercup's reappearance in his life, and she figured it was better to end it abruptly than go through a long and more painful break up process.

It never occurred to her that night, the idea of breaking up with Butch would be the biggest mistake she would make in her nineteen years of life.

"Buttercup," she reminded him, despite her wanting nothing more than to go away with him. To forget about the sticky mess surrounding them. To run away from Townsville, from Buttercup, from their responsibilities, and more importantly, from Him. To finally be at peace with each other and express their love without any complications.

"She doesn't know I'm here and… and I know I shouldn't be here but I just had to give it one more try." He took a step closer to her. "I need to make sure you're at least safe. If something happened to you, I… I—"

"I'll go with you," Berserk interrupted. Her stomach flopping from her announcement. She found it to be a better decision than to hear any more about how much he cared about her. "But it will be the last time," she determined.

Butch nodded with a melancholic smile, "I promise."

* * *

 _October 2nd_

 _Statesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

The car ride was an anxious one. Neither spoke the entire time. Butch did not have the radio on either. His fingers tapped nervously against his steering wheel when they stopped for red lights. Berserk spent the time taking in the familiar landscape of Townsville to the uncharted surrounding of the town Butch brought her too. _Welcome to Statesville_ was the sign in which greeted them after an hour and a half long car ride, allowing her to know where it was exactly they were.

They drove around the streets of Statesville for another twenty minutes before arriving at a park. The parking lot full of various food trucks and patrons. When they exited the car, not much was said except for Butch advising for her to follow him. They made their way through the crowd of middle aged couples and children to a truck painted red and blue with yellow lettering. A flag in the window caught Berserk's eyes immediately.

"Venezuelan food?" She questioned, arching an eyebrow at Butch.

"I found it after your mom ended up not making any for Christmas," he explained. "I remembered how homesick you were then."

She glanced over the menu, reading off all of her favorite meals from her home. Berserk tried to hide the smile on her face but was not doing a good job of doing so. "This is really sweet of you."

Butch rubbed the back of his neck, his lip curled in one corner, "I try to be."

Once they placed their orders and received their Styrofoam containers of food, they made their way towards a park bench, choosing one facing out towards a lake in the park. Hot steam and the delectable aroma of her homeland's food consumed the air around her when she opened her container to eat.

With a mouth full of food, she glanced over to Butch's order. Her eyebrows furrowed at the large amount of food she failed to realize he ordered. It was enough to feed at least a family of four adult people. She swallowed her food, pointing her fork at him.

"Did you not eat today?"

"I did," he chuckled off, meeting her eyes. "Two hours ago, actually. It just so happens the side effect to my powers is my stomach became a bottomless pit."

"How desirable."

"I know." He shrugged his shoulders with a grin. "At least I don't gain any weight with it."

Berserk glanced down at her food, picking at it, "What exactly is your powers anyways?"

"Blossom calls it geokinesis, but I like to think I'm an earthbender."

"You would," she commented under her breath with a light laugh.

He nudged her elbow with his, "And you're like _The_ _Flash_."

"Sure."

"What's the negatives of having super speed?"

"I'm basically an insomniac," she grumbled bitterly. "I have way too much kinetic energy within me to settle down long enough to sleep."

"Yikes."

"Tell me about it," Berserk sighed. "I've been going through so much concealer to hide my dark circles."

"I'm sure you still look beautiful without it," Butch said softly.

Berserk stabbed at her food, her eyes focusing on the stagnant motion of the lake.

"I know."

She saw Butch smiled at her from the corner of her eye.

"So you and Him…"

"Yes."

"I'm worried about you," he hesitated. "I don't…"

"You're not going to convince me, Butch." She tilted her head towards him, watching attentively, picking up on all of the small nervous quirks he was vastly full of. "Even if I had a change of heart, Him would have me killed."

Butch slouched his shoulders in defeat, his fork drumming lightly against the pearly white styrofoam container on the lap of his dark-washed jeans.

"I expected for you to say that."

Berserk blinked at him, a little taken back by his comment. It was a small shot to her heart. A reminder of how he used to know her better than anyone else. How she divulged her deepest secrets, thoughts, and feelings to him. A recollection of how much she invested herself into him.

"Is that so?" She said coyly.

He let out a dry chuckle, "I did. And that's half of the reason why I wanted— _needed_ to see you today."

"Then detail me about it."

Butch closed his container of food, placing it by his feet. His eyes focused on the horizon of the lake. A hand slipped through his hair, tugging slightly on a few strands. "I fucking hate this," he started off with a ragged breath. "I fucking hate that we're being pitted against each other. I hate that even if I want to make any type of decision, I know there will be this huge fucking repercussion to it. No matter what, someone is going to get hurt but I'm just not sure who exactly it is going to be. And I fucking hate the mystery of all of this. The never ending questions. The new problems arising. I fucking hate every second of it. But most of all, I fucking hate it because, at this very moment, it's the only reason I can't be with you."

"I don't agree with that statement, Butch. You have many reasons to not be with me. The top one being, _you have a fucking girlfriend_."

"No. There is only one reason." He cocked his head to the side, a smile painted on his lips as she followed his actions by closing and placing her food by her feet. A dark shadow cascaded across the emerald hue of his eyes. Although she should not in this moment, Berserk felt herself taken by his handsomeness. Her mind wondered how he ever was her's before. "I've already decided I'm going to break up with Buttercup when I get the chance to, even if you don't want to get back together... But it would be nice if we did," Butch finished sheepishly.

"We shouldn't," she remarked, tucking a strand of orange hair behind her ear. "You shouldn't even be here with me. You should hate me. You should be at least ten miles away from me because of what Him may push me to do to you. You shouldn't…" Berserk paused, taking in a soft breath. "You shouldn't love me."

She could see Butch watching her from the corner of her eye. His stare taking in her profile when coming up with an answer.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe I want you?" Butch questioned gently.

Berserk snorted bitterly at his question, "Because you have proven to me otherwise before."

"No, I haven't," he argued with a hint of frustration in his voice. "I never wanted anyone but you when we were together. Even after we broke up, I was still hung up on you. Buttercup… I love her, I do. But as I sit here now, able to piece things together, I realize I got with her to cope. To forget you. In the end, I took all the love I had for you, and forced it onto Buttercup… I mean, for fuck's sake, I joined the navy because I couldn't be in the same town as you anymore."

Berserk widened her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "No, no, no. No, you didn't."

Butch nodded his head to prove her wrong. A hollowness brought up by the memories in his eyes. Berserk began to use every curse word she knew in her native tongue of Spanish, speaking rapidly at Butch until she felt herself calm down. Butch did not flinch once since he was used to such a reaction of her's whenever things frustrated her.

"Butch, I… I'm sorry."

She quickly shut her mouth, realizing what she had said. Butch did the same, his face drawn together in shock. Their eyes watched each other, waiting for the other to speak.

Both unsettled by her apology. Butch has never heard her ever utter it before and Berserk could not remember the last time she cared enough about something or someone to apologize to them.

Berserk sunk her front teeth into her bottom lip, contemplating if she truly meant it. Her heart raced when the answer came to her immediately.

Of course she did.

Berserk had called Buttercup selfish towards Butch, but she was too. She had broke up with him to protect herself, not paying any mind to how it may have effected him. It was a cold and callous move. One she would be able to pull off without any remorse, had it been anyone else.

She inhaled a deep breath of the fresh air around them.

"...I am sorry, Butch. I," she sucked in another tight breath. "I mistakenly tried to protect myself from getting hurt based on some bullshit insecurities without realizing how much I actually hurt you in the process. I should not… I should have trusted you more."

"You could have at least talked me about what happened before you made a decision," he mumbled. "It was her dad's—"

"You don't need to explain yourself," Berserk interjected softly. "I was the one who made the mistake, not you."

"I still feel like it was my fault though," Butch answered back with a dejecting breath. "Like, was I hard to talk to?"

Berserk furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion, "What?"

"You said you were insecure," he pointed out. "And I knew there were a couple of times of when we spoke about them briefly but I had hoped you would be more open about them with me so we could work together. I tried my best to appease them and I know that day I slipped up horriblely, and I... I just wanted to be there for you, and," Butch began to rub at the back of his neck. "It seemed like every time I finally got through to you, you pulled back. So I'm just wondering if it was my fault? Like was I not understanding you better? Do I need to work on communicating? Was I trying too hard?"

"I..." Berserk blinked at him, unsure on how to answer him.

She was caught off guard by his idea of taking ownership to her own personal problems. When he stated it was his fault for the ending of their relationship, Berserk believed it was because of him getting caught with Buttercup and then proceeding to date her afterward, not because of any of the questions he conjured up.

Hot pinks eyes gazed into the depths of emerald, hoping to get lost in the jeweled hue and wanting to run away from the problems surrounding her and Butch.

"No. You were," Berserk took in a sharp inhale before continuing, "You were, for a lack of better words, an absolutely perfect boyfriend; but also, the most kindest, humble, good-hearted person I have ever been in contact with. Every time I shared any doubts with you, you always knew what to say. You always knew how to calm me down and become a puddle of emotions. To me, you're unreal. A fantasy. The best this ugly world has to offer. Someone who should never pay any mind to me. And... and that's why I was insecure. I never felt like I could not measure up to you or what you needed. You didn't expect more from me, but I expected more for you and that is the reason I was always worried about Buttercup because, even when I convinced myself otherwise, I knew, deep down—like seriously, way, _way_ deep down—she was ten times a better person than I could ever try to be. My insecurities are my own fault and I need to get over them." She placed her hand on the wood of the bench, a few inches away from Butch's thigh. "And I'm sorry for making you feel as if it was your fault for any of it. I truly am sorry for everything I have ever done to you, Butch."

Butch flashed a small smile at her, letting her know that all was forgiven.

"Thank you."

She gave him a single, bashful nod. Her body coming alive from the surplus amount of kinetic energy within her. An onset of jitters plagued her as she shook her leg to calm herself down. She needed to derail this conversation into another direction before it got even more heavier for her.

"...Wait. Why are you here?" Berserk quickly questioned, realizing Butch should not be in Townsville in the rapid thoughts of her mind. "You should still be in the navy."

"I withdrew myself after two months," he confessed casually despite there being a small amount of sadness in his voice. "Fuzzy was barely surviving without me and the bakery was close to being nonexistent, so I asked to be discharged."

"Fuzzy doesn't know you left because of him?" She inquired despite knowing what Butch's answer was going to be.

Butch shook his head, "I couldn't make him feel guilty. I told him that I wasn't prepared nor ready for it."

"And what about Buttercup?"

"I'm pretty sure she believes I left because of her," he mumbled. "And she didn't ask about why I was back. All she cared about was that I was around again."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he breathed exhaustingly. "It was a stupid decision anyways."

Her eyes examined Butch, "Then why do you seem upset about it?"

He leaned back into the wooden bench. "I was actually at the top during bootcamp. I was the guy who all the drill inspectors expected to rise in the ranks in no time. And even though baking is my passion, it was nice to be good at something that wasn't making pâte à choux or custard. For once, I could see a future for myself that was attainable."

His eyes glanced at his hands. A small pile of pebbles lining the lake floated their way over to him, stopping at his feet. Butch leaned down to grab them, sitting back up, and flicking his wrist to toss pebbles across the lake water.

"You know I love my dad. He's more than everything I could have asked for in a father figure. And you already know I'll do whatever I can to be there for him… But I don't know. I can't help wondering if that was my only chance at getting out of Townsville. I'm pretty sure it was and it sucks knowing I'm going to be stuck here, living a life I wouldn't love. I mean, I'm sure I'll be content—or I hope I will be. I just… I need more but I'm always finding myself putting my needs second."

"Heart of gold," Berserk murmured fondly. She reached over, plucking a pebble from his hand. Her thumb stroked against the smooth texture of the rock. "You're too good, Butch."

"I know," he sighed.

"I think you'll make it out of Townsville," she replied after a short moment of silence. Her shoulder bumped against his, "You know, if Him doesn't succeed in overruling the world."

"I'm left with the hopes of an uncertain future or the fiery ruins of hell," Butch quipped. "How appealing."

"Sounds like pretty good options to me," Berserk smiled softly, meeting his eyes.

Butch arched his eyebrow, halting in his rock skipping. His hand slid across the wood towards her's. The tips of their fingers brushed up against each other. They leaned closer to each other, leaving four inches of breathing room.

She could hear an alarm going off in her head at the acknowledgment of the lack of personal space between them.

Berserk pulled back, allowing reality to crash down beside her. Her hand swiftly being retraced from his. She attempted to read him.

Butch had always been easy for her to understand due to his ability of leaving his heart of his sleeve for her; but for the first time, Berserk could not figure out what was going on in his mind.

The only thing she could spot was the shimmering of a secret he was keeping from her. The way his eyes seemed to want to tell her more but held back whatever it was. Berserk was going to ask him about it but neglected to do so as another question flew out of her mouth.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you still want me when I'm working with Him?" Berserk exasperated. "I'm the bad guy here. The one everyone is rooting against. Why would you want me?"

"Because it's you," he answered without much thought. He straightened his posture, skipping another rock across the water, plopping for nine ripples before sinking into the water. "And I know deep down, you're not the villain here. I know there is some good in you, and I'm going to have faith that you know it is there too."

Berserk could not meet his gaze as she ignored his answer. She ran her finger along the smooth surface of the pebble again, her mind racing with various things to say to him but Butch beat her to it. His wrist flicking forward as loud plop of water was heard in the distance along with his words.

"Besides, it's kind of more romantic this way. We're like _Romeo and Juliet,_ " he said with the happy-go-lucky grin Berserk had etched perfectly into the back of her mind.

"Do not compare us to them."

"Why not?"

"Because they die at the end of the story, Butch," Berserk pointed out, with an eyebrow raised and a light chuckle escaping her lips.

His eyes widened, "They did?" Berserk nodded as Butch scratched at his head. "Man, no wonder I failed my tenth grade English exam."

"I mean, what were they thinking anyways?" She questioned sarcastically. "If it's not a cook book, they should know it was not worth your time to read."

"Exactly," Butch chuckled as she did the same. His eyes seemed to lighten at the fact she remembered his lack of interest in reading anything but cook books. When it grew calm between them, he glanced over to her and then at the lake, picking up one of the Styrofoam container he had full of food and placing it on his lap. As he opened his food again, he spoke, "You know, this is nice."

"I told you Venezuelan food is best this world as to offer."

"That's not what I'm talking about, but you are correct," Butch grinned before take in a fork full of food and pointing the end of the cutlery at Berserk when finished chewing. "I was talking about being around you. You know, just being able to talk to you again. I really missed this. And I missed you."

Berserk smiled at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I missed you too."

He took in another mouthful of food before swallowing, "Hey, so, um..." Butch cleared his throat, scraping his fork lightly against the styrofoam container on his lap. "I should tell you the other reason why I needed to see you."

"Okay." Berserk glanced down at the smooth grains of the pebble still held in her hand. In a fluid motion, she bounced it across the water, watching the five ripples created by the pebble's path. The setting sun highlighted the pebbles movement along the water surfaces. She tilted her head to a degree, watching the sun begin to dip into the horizon of the lake. The sky becoming shades of dreamy orange and golden yellows. "Get on with it..."

* * *

 _October 2nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

As he pulled up to his home, Butch found Buttercup sitting on his doorstep. Her eyes watched him attentively while he turned off the engine to his car. He took in a shaky breath, preparing himself for whatever she had to say.

More importantly, for what he needed to do.

He quietly exited the car and sat beside her on the doorstep. Neither of them saying anything for a few minutes. She seemed to be brewing in thought as Butch stared up at the stars.

"...You missed training today," she mumbled, catching Butch slightly off guard. He did not expect her to lead with his absence from earlier in the day. "Boomer learned how to create a ten foot wall of water."

"I was out of town," he answered back in a low tone, failing to acknowledge Boomer's progress.

"How nice."

"I guess…"

He heard her sigh beside him. Her hand taking up the space in between them, resting against the concrete of his front step. Butch's eyes lingered on it, reading Buttercup's mind without having to look at her.

She was choosing to ignore the bubbling tension amongst them in order to save the idea of their relationship.

"Buttercup."

"Yeah?"

"I can't do this anymore," he murmured. His shoulders began to tense up as he prepared for whatever reaction she was going to give him. His eyes stared out at the streetlight illuminating the dark road in front of his house and not at her.

"What do you mean by that?" She whispered with an edge. Butch could feel the holes her eyes were burning into his skill.

"I can't be with you anymore."

"Butch, look at me."

"Buttercup, I—"

"Butch, look at me," Buttercup repeatedly menacingly. With a sharp inhale, Butch reluctantly glanced at her, taken in the mixture of outrage and sorrow cascading across her green eyes. His chest tightened into a knot as she spoke, "Did you… I... You slept with _her_ , didn't you?"

Butch blinked at her, furrowing his eyebrows. His mind unable to understand how she found out. "With who?"

"Berserk," she answered through her teeth. "I think I finally figured it out." Buttercup looked him up and down, her face twisting up in disgust. "You slept with her that night. At Princess' Birthday party. The desert rose one. You slept with that narcissist, didn't you?"

He remained quiet for a moment, thinking about how he wanted to word himself. His hand ran back and forward through his short dark curls.

"It was more than a one night stand."

She froze for a minute. Her eyes growing wide as she digested what he implied. What his words warped the reality she saw. Once it had seemed to sink in. The harsh, cold truth shattering the what she had previous thought, a flash of blinding hot rage struck across her face.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No," he replied calmly. "I'm fucking not."

"While we—"

"It was before we got together."

"I thought you didn't see anyone before me," Buttercup recalled in a mocking manner.

"You asked if I was fucking someone else. Not if I dated someone else. But if you want to make it out that way, then yes. I lied to you," Butch shrugged dejectingly. His eyes met her's for a brief second. "It was easier than me telling you the truth and dealing with whatever shit you were going to put me through."

"Excuse me?"

"Think about how you would have reacted," he pointed out. "I know I should have told you. It was the one time I didn't do the right thing but I don't regret it."

"I don't get it," Buttercup retorted, gripping at her hair.

"Look at what you did to Blossom. You got everyone to alienate her when she probably needed us the most. I knew you would do something similar and I was already going through enough by the time we got together, that I made the selfish decision," Butch explained with a sigh. As a last ditch effort, he added a, "I'm sorry," shortly afterward.

"That's not what I meant." Buttercup strengthened her glare on him. "But it's nice to know what you truly think of me."

Butch matched her expression. "Don't pull that on me, Buttercup. You know I think the world of you."

"Apparently not if you're breaking up with me."

"Just because I don't want to date you anymore, doesn't mean I see you differently as a person. I still love you and this decision has nothing to do with you or anything you did."

"Oh, I know," Buttercup sneered. "It has to do with her. Doesn't it?"

"I—"

"You're in love with her," she asserted bitterly. "That's why you've been acting weird lately."

Butch let out a heavy breath, tossing his eyes to the sidewalk as he spoke. "I… I am. Yeah."

"How could you? You know she's working with Him. She's probably using you. And even if we weren't in this warped reality, why would you want to be with her? She's the worst person in Townsville. There is not a genuine bone in her body. Nor is she trustworthy or able to care about anything but herself. And I wouldn't doubt it for a second that she hasn't been with everyone that was in my class. She's such a fucking whore—"

"You don't even fucking know her," Butch interjected over Buttercup. He watched as Buttercup cowered, startled by his sudden raising of his voice.

Butch never raised his voice at her. He has never been boiling with anger at her as he was at the moment.

Butch has never been ashamed of his association with her until this moment.

"I think I have a pretty good understanding of who she is," Buttercup mumbled under her breath, avoiding the daggers Butch was giving her.

"Yeah, sure," Butch snorted sarcastically, letting the irritation within him to flow right out. "You think you know her because of some rumors started five years ago."

"They must have started for a reason, Butch."

Butch groaned to himself in annoyance, "You're unbelievable."

"Coming from the person who lied to me for our entire relationship," Buttercup snapped.

"And I'm truly sorry about it. I'm trying to fix that mistake by breaking up with you," he explained. "You can find someone who would be better to you than I ever was."

"No. You're doing this because you want to be with her."

"Buttercup—"

"Tell me the truth. The minute I leave, you're going to be with her," Buttercup accused. Her voice cracking a little as her hands formed into tight fists. "I'm going to have to see you parade around town with her. I have to watch you be in love with another girl."

"I don't know—"

"Yes, you do know. You can never control your feelings. That's why our friendship got ruined—"

Butch let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Are you trying to say I ruined our friendship?"

"That's what happened. We stopped being friends because you disappeared, and when you were around, you were totally spaced out." Buttercup arched her eyebrow pointedly. "Which now, I'm realizing is because you were with her."

"No. We stopped being friends because you could never make up your damn mind. You knew I was in love with you yet you were always hooking up with some new guy. You know how much that fucking killed me? Seeing the girl I love rather be with literally any one but me? And the second I finally— _finally_ , get over you, you decided you're into me. I started to resent you because of the bullshit you were putting me through. You never cared how I felt about anything. You just did whatever the fuck you wanted and expected me to agree with whatever reality you had cooked up in her head," Butch ranted in a low tone. "And on top of it, once you felt like things should be a certain way, you would stop at no ends to make it how you wanted it to be. I had to stay away from you because at some point, you would have figured out about Berserk and I, and I know for a fact, you would have sabotaged us somehow." He paused glancing her over with a critical eye. "Am I wrong?"

"I… I don't know," she mumbled. Her anger simmered off into the dark night, leaving her in a pool of the heartbreaking actuality of her life. A single tear rolled down her face, "All I wanted, is to be with you, Butch. Back then and even now."

Butch swallowed down the fury he unleashed on Buttercup. His body unclenching from the tension that built up within him.

"Buttercup…"

"We don't have to break up," Buttercup said desperately, not hiding the streams of tears slowly falling down her cheeks. "What you're feeling, it's just, it's just, nerves–or–or you're freaked about all this Him stuff and since Berserk is a part of it, you're getting confused. You don't really love her, you're just confused."

"I'm not confused," he said firmly.

"How do you know? I'm sure this isn't what you truly want—"

"No. It is," Butch interrupted, feeling a rise in annoyance again but allowed those feelings to plateau out shortly this time around. He took in a heavy breath, his lungs expanding to their fullest, resulting in a loud exhale before he spoke again. "All my life, I've always tried to do the right thing for everyone else. Those who I cared about, came first. You, Fuzzy, the gang. I would do anything to make you all happy, even if it meant I didn't do what I wanted. Have you noticed this?"

"Yeah, I guess," Buttercup shrugged, eyeing him skeptically.

"Well, I think it's time I did somethings for myself. I want to get out of Townsville. I want drop out of community college and go to pastry school instead. I want to be with Berserk…"

"She's on the other side. You're only going to get hurt by being with her."

"Maybe so but I can't help how I feel."

"Butch, please don't do this," Buttercup pleaded in a broken whisper. "We've loved each other for such a long time. Why mess it up?"

Most would think she was being a bit pathetic. A somewhat unlikely version of herself at the moment but Butch knew she did not want to lose him. He was the only person she had left that would love her unconditionally. She has repeatedly called him "her rock" and without him, Buttercup did not have anyone to land on or go to anymore. He was the source of stability in her life. The reason she did not fly off the walls from her impulsive nature. Butch knew there were a lot of factors playing into her last-ditch effort to convince him to stay with her.

Even if he did feel guilty and wanted to continue to be there for her, Butch could not do so with the idea she intended for them. It would not be fair to stay with her when he no longer felt such romantic feelings for her anymore.

"Time doesn't equate to feelings," Butch replied, echoing when Berserk had uttered the same words. "I may have been with Berserk for a lesser time than you but I know how deeply and fast I fell for her. How easy it was for me to do so. Like…" He cleared his throat, knowing if he continued, it would make it more painful for Buttercup. "Look at Blossom and Brick. They've known each other for a little over a month and they're already in love with each other."

"They've already fallen for each other about a hundred times," Buttercup said bitterly. "It's inevitable for them to fall in love in such a short span of time. It just comes naturally for them."

Butch tilted his head to a degree, meeting Buttercup's eyes. He took in the slight pink coloration in what should be the white of her eyes. His mind alerted him of Blossom's vision for them.

"And maybe we've broken up about a hundred times then," he commented. "Perhaps it's one of those inevitable things in each timeline."

Buttercup grew mum for a moment. Her hands unclenching to her sides.

"I was supposed to break up with you," she whispered. Her voice completely cracking towards the end as his words knocked the wind out of her.

"Maybe it doesn't matter who does it," Butch shrugged. "Maybe we break up for other reasons. Maybe it's happens at a later date. How the gaps fill, they don't matter. I do, however, think there's no stopping this. We're destined to break up, Buttercup."

She stayed quiet for a longer period of time. Her eyes focused on the front lawn of his house. Deep breaths coming in and out of her mouth. Each time her lips would part afterward as if she was going to say something back to him but would later chose not to.

Out of nowhere, she stood from his front step. Her body towered over him for the first time ever. The beaming light of the streetlight casted against the back of her head, making her face hard to read as it was trapped in the shadows of the night.

"This is bullshit," she spat out before turning on her heel and leaving his house to walk home.

She left Butch to his own as he spent the time reflecting on the transpiring events. Guilt spread over him in a suffocating manner. He knew whatever he did, it was going to hurt Buttercup; and while it was the last thing he wanted to do, it was best for him to be finally honest with her. She deserved to know the truth and all he could hope for, was for one day, she would forgive him.

* * *

 _October 7th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

It was twenty minutes after eleven when there was a knock on the salon door. Berserk furrowed her eyebrows, perplexed by the thought of someone coming here four hours after closing. She did not even stay this late on a usual occurrence, but with Brute gone and Sedusa's flakiness, Berserk took it upon herself to do inventory alone.

She peered through the blinds concealing the windows and glass door, letting out a heavy, anxious breath when she saw it was Butch on the other side. Berserk unlocked and opened the door, letting him into the space.

"We're closed," she remarked, closing and locking the door behind him.

"So is the rest of town," he quipped.

"Right. And this isn't creepy at all that you knew exactly where I was."

"I didn't," Butch shrugged. "I went to your house to talk but your mom told me you were here."

Berserk glanced down at the flooring, "Right. And… What brings you here?" She asked but already had the strong feeling that she knew what his answer would be.

"I waited a few days to tell you but... I broke up with Buttercup that night we hung out," Butch mumbled.

"Oh."

"I still feel like an asshole about it and she hates me now."

"She has every right. You did break her heart," Berserk whispered. The air around them changing, becoming heavy and crackling from the electrical current drawing them together. "In a weird way, I feel somewhat bad for causing it to happen."

"Don't. It was my fault for putting both of you in this position. If I didn't say yes to her, none of this would have happened."

Berserk arched her eyebrow, taking a step towards him. "Or maybe it would have. Maybe you were destined to date Buttercup, in one way or another."

"Yeah," he nodded solemnly. "And we were going to break up some where down the line."

"Perhaps."

Butch reached out for her, snaking his arm around her waist, filling in any space between them. His emerald eyes watched her attentively.

"What about us? What do you think is our destiny?"

Berserk pursed her lips in thought. She knew this was not an intelligent idea. To be this close to him but after their conversation at the park, Berserk has found her conscience to be much more calmer these days. Her need to run away from Butch ceasing to exist.

Him's plan for Butch no longer a worry for her after the arrangement they agreed on before leaving the privacy of Statesville.

Because of this, Berserk was able to entertain his question. To accept the idea of what she was predicting on to happen in a few seconds after her answer. With that in mind, she told him nothing but the truth.

"I have no idea," she whispered, her head tilting to the side. Her finger tips ran against his biceps. The nerve endings in her finger completely focused on the touch of his skin; the desire between them feeling like a surgical jolt throughout her body. "But I'm interested in finding out."

Butch smiled lovingly at her. His hand found a home in the space of her neck. "Me too," he said softly. His eyes ran down her face, focusing on her lips before flicking upward to meet her eyes. "Can I kiss you? Is it okay now?"

"More than okay," Berserk chuckled.

She figured he may have had something else to say but his mouth was already on her's before anything else could be said. Her arms swiftly wrapped around his neck, pulling him in deeper. A familiar yet brand new rush of emotions ran through her veins, exciting every fiber in her body.

Any caution or worry about the dark future or danger looming around them seemed to disappear for a moment as Berserk held onto the small hope she had within her for the possible future she could share with Butch.

* * *

 _October 5th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Two days ago._..

In what was left of the wreckage of the burnt candy factory, red eyes scanned over the blackened walls. The soot and ash sticking to the crumbling structure. A taunting reminder of what he caused.

"Ah, it's so nice of you to show up," a voice echoed through the charred building.

He let out a dejectingly sigh, questioning on why he felt the need to come. His body turned around to face the dark figure standing behind him. Gasly black air took up the space around them.

"I'm only here to officially discharge myself from your schemes," Brick remarked.

Him let out a roaring laugh, shaking his transparent head. "Oh, you think you can leave me that easily? You think without me, there's hope for you?"

"I... I don't know," he fumbled. "I just—"

"And how could you possibly think that girl would ever truly want you? Once she sees how truly pathetic you are, she'll leave you. Then what would you be left with?" The shadow proposed as Brick remained silent. His decision to keep mum, speaking louder than anything he could have possibly said. "You did have a chance to get your poor foster dad back, but you threw it all away for a girl who is only going to forget you in a few years."

"That's not..." Brick hesitated, not believing his own words. His belief of Blossom realizing he would never be good enough for her, still lodged in his mind. His cyanical brain never relieving him of negative thoughts despite Blossom constantly proving him wrong. "That's not true."

"Right," Him answered sarcastically. His gasly claw pinched Brick's chin, forcing his ruby-colored eyes to stare into a soulless abyss. "We both know I'm correct, and we both know you're going to be doomed without me. But," A wicked grin became visible to Brick as the shadow continued. "If you reconsider your act of defiance and give me your loyalties again, I will be still willingly to keep up my end of the deal."

"I—"

"I'll let you think about it," the shadow interjected, removing his claw from Brick. Him then summoned a thick smoke around his ghastly body, disappearing into the night, leaving Brick to make a daunting final decision.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Once again, thank you all for the support and the positive reviews. Y'all make me look forward to writing and the process is so much more enjoyable because of it.**

 **With this chapter, I had to change so much from my original plans. The entire ending changed completely and so did a quite few of scenes and dialogue choices, which is why it took awhile for me to update. Without the changes, I never felt satisfied when I was reviewing this chapter. So I'm hoping I made the right decision to go with the changes instead and the chapter came out as better as I think it did.**

 **Also, this marks the end of my main focus on romantic relationships, per say. There will still be romance but it will not be the main focus of a chapter anymore. Furthermore, there will be an increase in action scenes in coming chapters.**

 **For the next part of this story, it will be broken down into three parts, each getting their own respective chapters. Because of this, I'm predicting they wouldn't be as lengthy as my previous chapters (They'll still be lengthy but not 20,000 words lengthy). More so, since I'll be working on three chapters at once, I may take a little bit longer with updating but I'm aiming to be done by late July or August, so fingers crossed.**

 **With that said, like always, thank you for reading!**


	9. The Camouflage: Part One

_July 5th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

 _"Miss Princess… Miss Princess…"_

A soft groan escaped a pair of lips. Dark eyes peeked out, only to retreat from the small amount of sunlight shining through the cracks of her eyelids. A jolt of tension soon followed, pounding in the frontal lobe of her mind. Hands rubbed in circular motions against the skin of her forehead as Princess slowly opened her eyes again, blinking back rapidly to adjust to the blinding sunlight.

A maid—Maria, Princess believed but she could not be so sure thanks to the fogginess in her head—stood above her. The light of the sun radiated off of her inky black hair. Vibrant blue skies and no clouds were in sight above the older woman's head.

Princess blinked again, realizing she was outside as her sense of touch came back to her. Pasty skin began to itch from unknowingly laying in grass for the entire night. Her toes wiggled into the ground as she sat up, finding the pair of gold _Louboutins_ she wore the night before about ten feet away from her. A bottle of champagne laid beside her, empty and sticky to the touch.

"Wha… What happened?" The redhead asked, her voice catching in her throat from just waking up. The pounding in her head intensified more.

"You and your friends got out of control last night," the maid said hastily, shaking her head. "I said ' _No_ _after party this year. It's too much to clean up_ ' but no, you had to have another party, Miss Princess. You did not care about how overworked we all will be, and now your father is on his way back from the airport and he is not going to be pleased with the state of his home."

"How bad can it be?" Princess said sheepishly, glancing around her lawn. Her eyes widened at the sight in front of her, instantly regretting her question.

The fountain that greeted those who entered their driveway was spitting out pink-tinted water. The cobblestone driveway was spray painted with obscene images of male genitalia. Flower beds were war-zones of their own, ripped from the roots and thrown around into the lawn to die. A tree contained a collection of bras and boxers hung proudly on branches, similar to ornaments on a Christmas tree. A faint smell of hot dog water lingered in the air as Princess spotted a kitty pool in which was flipped onto its side and still had a few soggy hot dog buns stuck to its plastic lining. The grass of the lawn was scorched greatly from the usage of illegal fireworks.

If this was how the outside appeared, Princess did not want to guess how the inside of her home looked.

"Shit."

"You also drove your _Range Rover_ into the hot tub," the maid informed her.

"Oh fuck me," Princess mumbled under her breath. She slowly stood up from the ground, noticing how her designer dress was ripped a little at the ends. Her dark eyes gazed over her maid, confirming to herself that it was, in fact, Maria. "We have to clean all of this up before Daddy gets home."

"Miss Princess, I don't—"

"Princess Annemarie Morbucks! Get your ass over here!"

Princess cringed, her ears ringing from the brutal intensity in her father's tone. The loudness of his voice sent her headache over the edge. She barely could meet Maria's eyes before heading towards the driveway of her home, taking in a deep breath in preparation of the ass chewing she was about to receive from her dad.

* * *

 _October 10th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"I need ideas for my Halloween party," Princess addressed as she and Brute headed towards the greenhouse located on Morbucks manor. "After last year's Monster Mash idea, I kind of want to redeem myself."

"I didn't think last year's party was all that bad."

"At least half of the party were vampires, Brute," the redhead pointed out dully.

Brute gave her a single nod, cringing slight at the remembrance of the night and how many guys asked if they could "suck her blood" as a pick up line.

"Right." She rubbed the back of her neck, her brow furrowed as she thought about themes but she was drawing a blank. "Um... What about if you could do a party without a theme. Just let everyone dress up to be whatever they wanted. I feel like that will solve the problem of repeat costumes. And it _would_ help with the last minute planning of this year."

Princess rubbed the length of her short chin, "I could work with that. And then I could decorate the manor as a stereotypical Halloween party this year. I just hope it's not too late to find good decorations at such a short notice."

"Me too. You're usually started with planning in June," Brute acknowledged. Her elbow nudged lightly against Princess' arm. "You sure you're doing okay? You've isolated yourself a lot lately. People around town keep asking me about you."

"And what do you tell them?" Princess asked rapidly, forgetting to answer Brute's question.

"I said you were busy helping your dad with a new social media marketing strategy," Brute shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh… That is plausible," Princess replied, impressed by Brute's excuse. They both paused as Princess opened the door to the greenhouse. The two entered the warm room, taking in the difference of temperature of the space compared to outside. There was a more humid heat to air than the dry hotness of Townsville. Hundreds of potted greenery lined the ground and tables. Each at different lengths of growth. Princess' eyes traced over them, her face masking over the various emotions she felt as her head grew heavy from too many thoughts. The redhead cleared her throat after easing her mind a little, glancing over to read Brute's profile. "How are things with you? How is working at the diner?"

"Absolute shit."

Princess could not help letting out a chuckle from Brute's response. She expected for the green-eyed girl to get a little upset by her finding humor in Brute's feeling but instead, Brute laughed along with her. It was a small, gentle yet nervous laugh. One that did not match Brute's punkish appearance.

A typical outfit for Brute was any black top or a distorted tee-shirt for a punk band, ripped jeans or a plaid skirt with metal chains, and her signature green _Doc Martens_. It was a rebellious style, considering the ill advised decision to wear generally dark colors in the blazing sun they had over Townsville on an everyday basis.

"I'm sorry that you had to quit," Princess said after a while.

"It's fine, girl. At least my pops owns Otto's, so I didn't have to be unemployed for long," Brute sighed. Her right hand went to her hair as she picked at her scalp. "I really just miss doing my hair."

Since she stopped working at Sedusa's salon, Brute was no longer able to change her hairstyle each week, leaving her to keep her natural hair in a medium-sized Afro. Princess knew Brute missed being able to reinvent herself each week but the redhead could not deny how much she preferred Brute's natural hair more than any style the green-eyed girl could create.

"Why did you have to quit?" She questioned as Brute has lacked in informing her thus far. Something about the dark-haired girl wanting to tell her in person, was the reason why.

"Berserk," Brute grumbled under her breath.

Princess arched an eyebrow, "Okay. I know she can be a bitch sometimes but she's never been one to you before."

"Yeah, I know, but we…" Brute let out a heavy sigh. Her eyes went to a plant near her. Her fingers traced along one of it's veiny green leaves. "We got ourselves in a mess and I didn't want to be apart of it. Call me a coward, but I couldn't support the decisions we made. And she didn't want me around anymore because of it, so she threatened me."

"She fucking threatened you?" Princess retorted. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of Berserk disrespecting Brute. How could anyone treat Brute so terribly? She was too wondrous to harm.

Brute nodded. Her hazel eyes connecting with Princess' as she spoke, "But it's done with," she shrugged. "I'm over it."

"Are you really?"

She hesitated for a moment. Her arms hugged her body. "I'm getting there."

"Brute."

"It's fine, Princess," Brute answered, smiling weakly. The redhead gave her a nod, knowing she had to drop the subject.

"So… any news to give me?"

"Well, we just finished talking about her."

Princess arched her eyebrow. Being withdrawn from the world outside of Morbucks manor for the past month and a half has made Princess become less involved in the gossip mill around Townsville. Other than her Labor Day party, talking to Buttercup on the phone, and whenever Brute had the chance to visit, the redhead was completely cut off from the outside world.

"What else did Berserk do?"

"She has a boyfriend, and get this, it's fucking Butch Lumpkins. How odd is that?"

Princess' eyes widened at the mention of Butch's name. "Wait... She's dating _Butch_?"

"Yeah," Brute nodded. "Like if I had the slightest bit of interest in guys, Butch is one of the top prospects—at least, appearance wise. I don't think I've ever really had a conversation with the guy, so I have no clue what he is like as a person other than what I've heard. And honesty, if I wasn't upset at her, I would tell her how cute they are together, despite how weird of a pairing it is."

"It's an odd pairing because he's supposed to be with Buttercup," Princess exasperated.

Brute raised an eyebrow, "You think? I always thought they were just friends."

Princess shook her head, "No, no, no. They were together, Brute. Like for over a year. And the last time I spoke to Buttercup—which was on her birthday—they were still together."

"Holy shit," Brute gasped. "I had no clue. Shit." Her hands went to her scalp as she pulled on her hair a little. "Maybe the rumors in high school were true? Maybe Berserk is a boyfriend stealer?"

"Maybe so. But why would Butch want to date her?" Princess questioned, becoming defensive because: one, Berserk was disrespectful towards Brute; and two, she stole Buttercup's boyfriend.

"I mean, have you seen her?" Brute pointed out. "If she was into girls and we weren't such good friends over the years, I might have tried to hook up with her."

"Oh…"

Princess felt her cheeks rise in a rapid heat. Her chest tightened from the dislike towards Brute's comment.

"But it's whatever," the dark-haired girl continued, not picking up on the distraught feelings Princess held as her eyes were looking up at the hanging baskets of flowers above them. Nor did she notice the plants next to her beginning to wilt a little. "It's his mistake to date and trust her."

"Yeah, I guess so," Princess mumbled.

Brute glanced back down at her, taking in her upset state with concern. "Princess, are you alright, girl? I've been worrying about you since Labor Day now."

"I'm fine."

"You're obviously not. You've isolated yourself for the past few months. You've stopped posting on your _Instagram_. I mean, I, uh…" Brute rubbed her arm awkwardly, speaking lowly. "I barely see you now. I miss you, you know."

Princess smiled softly. Her stomach fluttered from Brute's words.

"And I've missed you too." Brute returned the same expression. Their eyes locked onto each other, melting into the moment as Princess continued. "I've just been dealing with this weird thing. And Buttercup swears I'm not the only one but I don't know. I don't want to deal with it, I guess... Whatever it is going on with me."

Brute nodded, her eyes flickering with understanding. "I know exactly what you mean. Something weird happened to me too, and I feel like it's best if I simply ignore it instead of behaving how the others have been."

"So Buttercup was right? There are others?"

"Everyone at the lake that night."

"And I'm sure they expect us to join in on whatever it is that is happening?"

"It's worst," Brute answered. She let out a tired sigh. "There are sides to this. And if we sit this out, we're responsible for way more than I could ever comprehend."

"Good responsible or bad responsible?"

"Bad responsible."

"Shit."

"I know."

"Then maybe it's time I stop hiding," Princess thought to herself.

"What is that you're hiding from anyways?" Brute asked with a raised eyebrow. Concern reflected off of her hazel eyes once again.

Dark eyes shifted over to the table of plants. Their leaves were wilted a little, hanging on poorly for support. The want to hang on and grow once again into some strong and beautiful was still prevalent in them.

Princess would know. She could understand them.

"Whatever happened to me, it made me connect with nature, I guess," Princess revealed. Her hand brushed upon the few wilted plants. With a single touch, they sprouted back into their healthiest form. Brute blinked in amazement, her eyes following Princess' hand as she restored the rest of them. "I can control plants. And I'm sure you're aware of the side effects we got, right?"

" _Unfortunately_."

"Well, mine is that I can't eat anything that is purely plant based. You know why? Because I feel the plants' pain. I'm going to sound like I'm losing my goddamn mind, but I can hear them talking to me. Every single one trying to communicate with me. And I isolated myself because it was too much. Too much for me to function with all of these intruding thoughts in my head, so I couldn't find a way to manage. Perhaps I was being ignorant for avoiding whatever it is that is happening…" Princess trailed off sorrowfully.

With the growth she had made in the past year, Princess surely thought she would not fall back into the trap of ignoring other issues besides herself. She was gravely wrong, it appeared.

"I think you were justified in how you handled everything," Brute comforted. "You're not able to control your own mind. That's some scary shit. And I can't imagine what might have happened if you were out in public and something happened, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Princess, listen to me." Brute reached out, placing a hand on the redhead's shoulder. Their eyes held a steady gaze. "You did nothing wrong. We all had different ways of dealing with this. There is no right or wrong way, okay? The only difference now, is whether you are going to sit idly by while shit goes down or if you are going help do something about it."

Slowly, a smile stretched across Princess' lips. A single nod was given to Brute. "You're absolutely right."

"Then let's find a way to help."

"I think I know just the person to ask."

* * *

 _August 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

Too many times she had left her father in disappointment. Too many times she had gone overboard with spending his money. More so, too many times her father has come home to a wrecked estate and the lingering smell of under-aged drinking.

All of this left Princess with two options. She had to either: enroll in a university in some remote location far away, cut off from all of her social media _or_ learn the value of money by getting a job.

The redhead easily settled with the second choice due to her lackluster feelings towards more schooling after high school. She figured her father would show her the ropes to the Morbucks' fortune. A cushiony desk job or corporate position brushed with a smudge of nepotism was what she expected.

Her father, however, had different plans.

His definition of Princess learning the value of money and responsibilities, was for her to get any actual job.

In Townsville.

At a minimum wage position.

All while she was cut off from using any of the Morbucks' wealth until she learned her lesson. Until then, Princess had to use whatever money she rightfully earned from her job.

She did not know what was more upsetting. The fact she was being cut off or that she had to actually work for her money. Furthermore, the redhead had to work for it at Ralph's grocery store as they were the only one hiring at the moment.

Princess was simply grateful she ended up getting a nightly position of restocking shelves. She would not have to be seen in the obnoxious and hideous polyester green polo shirts that the day shift workers wore. Instead, Princess' uniform consisted of a black tee-shirt that had the store's logo on her back and jeans. While her tee-shirt was a bit tight, the redhead would rather have noticeable back-fat than wear the icky shade of green sewn together to create those fashionably-challenged polo shirts.

So far, she has worked three shifts, with today being her third. The first two were mainly training. A supervisor showing her how they stocked the shelves and how they wanted the food labels to be presented and what not. For the majority of the time, Princess tuned them out as she sneaked her way onto her phone when they were not looking at her.

Tonight would be the first time she would be working purely on her own. In what she thought would be an easy event—how hard could stocking shelves be?—Princess found herself struggling early into the night. She had placed all of the cheddar crackers where the saltines should be, and put the saltines where the chocolate chip cookies were to be… Needless to say, the entire aisle was disorganized.

Dabbing the back of her hand on her forehead to remove sweat, Princess wanted to give up. Hire someone to fix her problem. Quit on the spot.

She would have done so if the redhead did not remind herself that this job was her only form of income until… who knows when?

Sucking in a sharp breath, Princess purged the shelves from her mistakes. Packages and bags of food being dumped onto the laminate tiling of the store. She knew she was making a ruckus while doing all of this but at the moment, the redhead did not care.

All she cared about was money.

Princess kept shoving the food to the ground, not caring about the state in which it was left in. Crackers were broken. Cookies crushed. Wrappers opened. None of it mattered to her.

That was until she made a crucial misjudgment. Her fingernail dug into a stiff piece of cardboard, and in a swift motion, the box snapped a bit of her nail off. Princess stared at her newly damaged nail, conveying a shell-shocked expression for a moment before letting out a frustrated and distressed shrill.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She exclaimed to her hand.

"Can you be quiet? I'm trying to work!"

Princess arched her eyebrow, momentarily forgetting about her nail as she tried to recall the other person's voice—she had thought she was the only one working for the night. The realization came to her sooner than later, speaking without even a thought.

"Buttercup?"

There was a deafening silence for a few seconds but then strands of dark hair peeked around the corner. Light green eyes narrowed at Princess before widening at the mess she had made in the aisle.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I work here," Princess said reluctantly, rolling her eyes.

Buttercup did not seem to believe her answer as she crossed her arms. "Uh huh, sure. And let me guess, your precious daddy cut you off, sweetheart?"

The redhead nodded, "Yes, he did."

"Oh umm…" Buttercup blinked at her, slightly taken back by the reality of the situation. Her eyes leading back to the ruined packages of food. A devious grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Well then, good luck cleaning all of this up before sunrise," she waved off, going back to the aisle she originally was working in.

Princess' dark eyes expressed urgency towards Buttercup's departure. Her legs automatically rushed after her. "Wait! Do you think you could help me?"

Buttercup let out a dark chuckle, not bothering to even look in Princess' direction. "You really expect me to help you? After all the shit that has happened between us? You're incredibly desperate, you know that?"

"You don't have to be such a bitch about it," Princess scoffed.

"And you don't have to be such a spoiled brat all the time yet here you are," the dark-haired girl retorted, crouching down to re-arranged some boxes of macaroni and cheese. "Maybe if you actually learned to do shit for yourself, you would learn to grow up and be a decent person."

"I do stuff for myself," the redhead huffed out. "Like—"

"Taking selfies doesn't count."

"That wasn't what I was going to say. There's tons of other stuff I do for myself. Like… um… I… well let's see…" Princess fumbled, unable to string together any examples to disprove Buttercup.

Unknown to her, Buttercup rolled her green eyes, shaking her head. "Get back to work, Princess. You're wasting away the time you could be using to at least make a dent in the clusterfuck you created."

Princess tightened her stare on the dark-haired girl, preparing for a sharp comeback but somehow, Buttercup's words slid through to her. _She was right_. The more time Princess wasted, the less she would have to fix the mess she had made. If she left the aisle in the state it was in for the morning crew, Princess would be surely fired.

She let out a loud and heavy puff before stomping back to her aisle, taking full responsibility of her actions for once, preparing herself for the hours of labor she was about to commit to.

* * *

 _September 16th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago..._

It had been a month since she started working at Ralph's and Princess was surprised by how she managed to remain willing to work. Not to mention, the amount of weight she has lost from the physicality of her job. No longer did she hold onto the lingering baby fat that has pestered her for the majority of her teen life.

She was also silently shocked by the gradual amount of pride she has acquired towards her work ethic. Princess knew she would not be the best employee Ralph's would ever hire but it did not change her growing enthusiasm towards her work. Beside the maintenance of her _Instagram_ account to keep followers and sponsors, Princess never had anything in which was truly her's. Something she worked for.

Her father's plan to make her learn the value of responsibilities was turning out to be a successful one.

In retrospect, Princess questioned why her dad never taught her the worth of money beforehand. His initiative to do it at such a later age for her, raised some inquiries of her own. Was it to keep her in his back pocket until she had finally pushed him to the edge?

As Princess pondered over it, she realized there was never a time she had wondered her dad's intentions for her, but taking the time to be independent, she came to acknowledge the strong strings he had been orchestrating her with.

Whether she wanted to cut some of those strings or not, was the largest epiphany she has yet to figure out.

Until then, the redhead wanted to continue working at Ralph's to further the distance between them.

She was three hours into her shift when she spotted Buttercup organizing the dairy section of the store. Princess took notice to how often they seemed to share the same shift. It was odd, since the redhead held the knowledge of Buttercup also working during the daytime as a cashier.

If the dark-haired girl was in such a pinch for money, Princess could not help feeling anything but sympathy towards her—an occurrence she had never experienced before for the less fortunate due to her long-lasting ignorance to the idea of it.

The redhead attempted to focus on her work of fixing the baking aisle but found her eyes leading back to Buttercup. There was something different about her demeanor. She seemed cluttered in her mind. Her green eyes blinked blankly as she shelved cartons of milk.

In her distracted state, Buttercup lost grip of a gallon of milk. The creamy liquid spattered onto the tile in result. Some droplets landed on the dark-haired girl's dark pants.

"Shit," she mumbled to herself.

Princess expected Buttercup to leave in order to get a mop but instead, she stood in the same spot. Her eyes focused on the puddle, in which was soaking her shoes.

The redhead took it upon herself to help Buttercup clean up the mess, grabbing the mop and bringing it to her. Buttercup did not even respond nor notice Princess' presence.

Princess sighed lightly, deciding to mop up the floor herself. One quick swipe at the milk was what got Buttercup to return back to reality. Her spacey expression turned into a harsh scold.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping."

"I don't need your help," she remarked bitterly, reaching for the pole of the mop. Her grip attempted to pull the mop away from Princess but the redhead did not give it up to her.

"It's fine. I got it," Princess replied. Her voice treading on friendliness to ease the tension Buttercup was exerting but her tendency of speaking in a brash tone found a way to escape into her words.

"I have it," Buttercup said lowly in frustration, her grip growing stronger.

"Just let me help, Buttercup."

Princess arched an eyebrow as something seemed to shift in Buttercup. Her angular cheekbones become more sharper. Plump lips twisted up in a bitter scold. Blind rage clouded over her light green eyes.

"I don't need your help, _Blossom_!" the dark-haired girl roared.

The redhead blinked at Buttercup in bewilderment, confused by the usage of Blossom's name. Her perplexed state left her unable to keep a hold of the mop, allowing Buttercup to gain full control over the cleaning device.

She had heard about the conflict between Buttercup and Blossom a few months ago. An event in which did not surprise Princess since she never was particularly fond of the other redhead.

Princess slowly shook her head, "I'm… I'm not Blossom…"

Buttercup reacted the same to her words as Princess did to her's. The mop slipped out of her hands, falling to the ground. The loud noise of the pole hitting the tile amplified throughout the virtually empty store.

Green eyes downcasted to the puddle of milk again, "I… My bad."

Princess watched Buttercup, picking up on the deflated nature of her posture.

"Is everything okay?"

Her question was met with a lackluster response as Buttercup rolled her eyes, scoffing at Princess.

"Like you care."

"Well um…" Princess rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "Maybe I could?"

"Ha," Buttercup snorted, narrowing her gaze at her. "You're Princess Morbucks. The only person you care about, is yourself."

The redhead grinded her teeth together, biting down on her tongue with all the might she had. The reputation of the self-involvement Princess was invested in, did not usually bother her. She never cared for others' opinions nor their judgments because she saw it as jealously of her living the life they all wanted. However, the past month had opened her eyes to realize how false she was.

How she somewhat resented the old image of herself, as she thought about it. Princess had no clue on why others wanted to hang out with her—well, she knew why the majority did, but the punks…

The punks were her only _real_ friends, per say. The redhead did not understand why the trio would willingly speak to her.

Sure, Berserk was a bit lacking in empathy to care about how others were treated outside of those who she cared for; and then Brat was more than likely her friend because Berserk and Brute were since the blonde tended to follow their actions. But Brute…

Brute was the most genuine of the three, or at least, she was to Princess. The redhead never had to question Brute's intentions towards their friendship. She, simply, understood Princess when Princess was not sure if she even understood herself. Which was why Princess wondered how Brute wanted to be associated with her if she was truly as selfish as everyone knew her to be.

Perhaps she saw more…

The redhead felt her cheeks warm a little from the thought but pushed it aside, focusing on Buttercup again.

"People are allowed to change," she remarked, catching Buttercup off guard. The dark-haired girl tried to formulate a sentence but stopped after realizing it was pointless. Princess had left her speechless. The redhead grinned at her, arching an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you haven't noticed but I am trying."

Buttercup's eyes went everywhere but Princess. Her arms crossed against her chest, "I've… I've might have seen a change in you."

"Then why the hostility?"

"Because you're _you_ ," Buttercup pointed out harshly. "We've been feuding since the first grade. Ever since you cut Blossom's hair during nap time."

Princess thought back to the moment, feeling a twang of guilt for her former decisions. She rubbed her arm sheepishly, "Yeah, I can see why you would dislike me after that. But I never truly felt any hatred for you, Buttercup. Or Bubbles. Or your guy friends."

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows, "That's bullshit. You always had it out for all of us."

Princess shook her head, "No. I only had a problem with Blossom. All of you just assumed it was directed to the entire group because of how protective you were of her. You all were so loyal, that you perceived it all wrong."

"No. No, no, no," Buttercup brushed off. "You weren't only interested in Blossom. There was the time at the Christmas pageant—"

"I was jealous Blossom got chosen to be the angel."

"Then the Valentine's Day dance in the eighth grade—"

"She got more candy than me."

"But what about Bubbles' quinceañera?"

"I had a small crush on Cody Watson and he was only giving his attention to Blossom."

"So I threw a glass of punch at you because of a pointless crush?" The dark-haired girl asked with a small amount of remorse.

Princess nodded. "You also called me all the names in the book, ruined my favorite pair of sandals, and tee-peed my home," she shrugged off.

Buttercup blinked at her. Her cheeks reddened from the embarrassment she felt.

"I, um…"

The redhead rolled her eyes, "I'm not an innocent party in all of this too. I did try to bring down your friend whenever I could. Which caused you and friends to end up as collateral in all of it."

"She's not my friend," Buttercup muttered under her breath before pursing her lips. "But why?"

"Why I don't like Blossom?"

"Yeah."

"Jealousy, mostly, I suppose," Princess admitted after a beat, expressing her words with a small sense of sorrow. "I mean, we were the only two redheads at our school. If we weren't stupidly mixed up for one another, we were lumped together in a competition of who was better, in, what seemed to be, everyone's mind. It was kind of hard getting out of her shadow. And me, thinking I'm more important since _I am_ a Morbucks, could not stand the idea of being confused for her or being the second choice to her… and then there was the fact that after all the things I have ever done to her, she never retaliated. She may have not liked me but she was above the feud we all were apart of. Instead of both of us looking bad, I was the only one. And that got under my skin so badly. I hadn't realized it until recently but I wanted to be self-assured like her. I wanted to know who I am and what I am capable of…" Princess let out a tired breath. "...I _want_ to be a good person like her."

Buttercup nodded. The way her face softened at Princess' explanation, made the redhead realize of much the green-eyed girl related to what she had said. Perhaps, Buttercup quietly saw the pink-eyed redhead to be a source of competition too. A bitter and unfortunate mistake as she must figured she could never compete with Blossom like Princess could to understand.

"I never saw it that way…"

"Yeah… no one did," the redhead murmured.

Buttercup met her eyes, a soft apologetic smile on her lips, "I don't say this often, but um…" She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry for misjudging you all of these years, Princess. I truly am."

"Thank you," she smiled. "And I am sorry for all the shitty things I did to you and your friends too."

The dark-haired girl gave her a single nod before glancing down at the milk puddle on the ground. She crouched down to pick up the mop and began cleaning up the mess once she straightened out her standing.

"...Blossom used to drive me nuts. She _always_ had to insert herself into any situation. She just had to help with whatever was going on. She would pester with her constant niceness and need to be helpful. Her never ending optimism and need to find the good in any situation would cloud her judgement. So no one seemed to be able to figure out their own shit because, from what I could conclude, she believed she was the only one who could solve it, even if it wasn't her problem to begin with," Buttercup spoke quietly, surprising Princess as she thought their conversation was over with. Furthermore, she was taken back by Buttercup's decision to open up a little to her. "And I guess… I guess you wanting to help me, it made me think back to those days and my frustrations towards her, which is why I lashed out on you."

Princess arched an eyebrow, speaking hesitantly, "...Do you… Do you miss her?"

Buttercup stopped mopping for a moment. Her green eyes grew hazy from the question.

"I'll just say this, today…" She took in a breath. Her voice sounding as if was on the brink of cracking under pressure. "Today is– _or was_ –my birthday, and she did not even bother to call or anything. And you know, I get why she wouldn't because I did say I wanted nothing to do with her ever again. But then, I had this expectation that she would reach out. That she would be the bigger person because she always is. And I guess… Guess I was wrong… I must have pushed her away too far this time."

Princess thought about reaching out to Buttercup's shoulder to offer support but knew it was not appropriate—after all, one conversation in which they were not rude to each other for half of the time, did not qualify for them to become friendly all of the sudden.

She thought back to the state Buttercup was in before dropping the gallon of milk. It made sense why the dark-haired girl would be affected by the lack of communication by her former friend. Almost thirteen years of friendship and twelve birthdays, a person would be accustomed to a connection they had with someone.

"I'm sorry, Buttercup. That sucks," Princess replied after sometime. She struggled to find anything relatable to say but knew she could not leave Buttercup hanging after such a confession.

Buttercup swept the floor with mop. Her eyes focused on the swishing of the dairy product.

"Yeah. It does."

* * *

Princess had left a gift basket of cookies and a card stating _Happy Belated Birthday_ on Buttercup's door step the next morning. She had spent the money she had been saving to buy a new pair of shoes on the gift, and Princess surprisingly found herself not hesitating to do such a thing. A move she never would have fathom doing a few months ago.

Instead, Princess was more concern about hoping the gift would cheer Buttercup up a little.

She also hoped it was the perfect olive branch to officially end the senseless feud between them.

Only time would tell if it did.

* * *

 _October 2nd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

Her father had decided she should no longer be punished. He saw the growth Princess had made towards becoming more responsible.

She was no longer cut off. Her bank accounts were swiftly amplified by the influx of her father's wealth. The mere four hundred she had been saving from Ralph's was lost in the thousands of dollars thrown her way.

In two short weeks, Princess would no longer need to work at Ralph's. It was a bittersweet reality as the redhead grown a certain fondness towards her job. Not to mention, the development she has made with Buttercup. She would not say they were friends yet but Princess was sure they were close to becoming so.

It was ironic how she did not want to truly quit her job. The single form of independence she has acquired, was taken from her. But she should be grateful, as Princess kept telling herself. Her dad kept his promise. She no longer had to worry about money.

Princess simply hoped she would not become the selfish person she once was. The selfish person in which her father had a part in creating.

Her life was going back to normal. Or at least, the old normal.

Princess could not help feeling as if she made two steps forward but four steps backwards in life.

She was close to telling her dad on how she did not want to quit working at Ralph's but he must have caught on to her displeasure towards the situation.

He had quickly announced she would get a position at Morbucks Industries. The social media specialist. Her salary would be a hundred times more than she would make at Ralph's.

It was a fruitful opportunity. One she could not pass up despite the lingering doubts she had towards her father's reasoning for offering the position to her.

A few months ago, she would have expected such a position as if it was the only valid way of dealing with her. As if she earned the position from doing nothing other than sharing the same last name as the boss. _Now,_ Princess felt guilty for taking a job from someone who truly needed and qualified for it. Even if she wanted to reject it, her dad had demand her to take it. His assertive push was off-putting and unwanted.

Princess could not help but shake the feeling it was not a true offering. There was a certain type of shadiness her father had when detailing the position to her.

Her gut told her not to trust her dad. A man she has idolized her entire life. The man who made her who she was—or who she used to be.

She wondered why did parents have to ruin the rose-colored lens their children had of them? Why could they not be the person they remembered when growing up? It would have made life a lot more simpler if they did.

* * *

 _October 18th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _11 months ago..._

"I can't believe this is your last shift," Buttercup acknowledged as the two worked on forming a pyramid out of canned corn. "I'm probably going to be stuck working the night shift with Mitch now."

Princess cringed at the thought. "Yeah, sorry about that," she said sheepishly.

"It's fine," she sighed. "Mitchelson can be annoying but I can handle him."

" _Oh, can you now_?" the redhead teased, pausing in her work to give Buttercup a suggestive look.

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at Princess, "Don't even dare conjure up that thought."

"Fine, fine," Princess chuckled, resuming in the can stacking. "I do want to point it out, it has been a long time since I've seen you with a guy. I mean, in high school, you seemed to have a new playtoy each week, but now, you barely even look at any guys."

The dark-haired girl remained quite mum, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't see the problem in that."

Princess looked her over for a moment before producing a large grin. Her mind pinpointing the exact reason why Buttercup was less interested in boys.

"You have a boyfriend," she assumed excitably. Princess watched as Buttercup's eyes flashed with panic. Her body becoming frozen from the redhead's deduction.

"What? No! I don't have one!" Buttercup croaked out.

Princess nodded once, "Uh huh, sure. Whatever you say."

"Princess…"

"Hey," She lifted her hands up to signal no harm. A can of cream corn was wrapped by her fingers. "If you don't want to talk about it, then that's fine."

Buttercup directed her eyes to the corn, stacking a few of them before speaking. "...Thank you."

"Of course."

"So…" Buttercup made brief eye contact to single just how deeply she appreciated Princess' decision to respect her privacy. The redhead smiled at the subtle acknowledgment before focusing on what Buttercup had to say next. "Have any guys you want to talk about?"

"Eh," she shrugged. "At the moment, I haven't been into guys. Too immature for my taste."

"Tell me about it."

"But um…" Princess tucked a strand of her luscious red curls behind her ear. A sprout of pink tint lined her cheeks. "I've been crushing pretty hard on this girl we went to school with."

" _A girl_?" Buttercup blinked in a mild surprise as Princess nodded. "Huh. I didn't know."

"I don't think anyone does," the redhead thought to herself. "Well, I do think Berserk knows because she asked me about it—if I liked girls, not about who I liked…"

"Ugh," the green-eyed girl grimaced. "I can't fucking stand that girl."

"She's alright."

"Yeah, sure," Buttercup scoffed. "Anyways, back to a more pleasant topic. What is this girl like?"

Princess smiled in a daze as she answered, "She's pretty bad-ass, if you ask me. Super chill but will not take anyone's shit. Comfortable in her own skin and also has a superior sense of style. Plus, she is genuine with me and never has given me the impression that she was using me, you know? And then there's the fact she's incredibly gorgeous. Her skin is absolutely flawless and she could be, like, an actual goddess. She is talented and creative. Her laugh is super adorable—" The redhead paused, taking notice to the amused grin on Buttercup's lips. Princess cleared her throat as she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Yeah… I have a big crush on her."

"Oh, I can tell," Buttercup chuckled. "So why don't you say anything to her?"

Princess threw her eyes to the ground. Her face softened with sorrow. "I, um… The reason I'm not letting the knowledge that I'm bisexual out to the town, is because I don't want to risk it. Daddy runs a company with some extremely conservative backing and board members, and I'm pretty sure Daddy shares the same beliefs. He just let me off the hook for partying too much, imagine what he would do if he found out I liked girls? I'm supposed to be the future of Morbucks Industries but I doubt I would ever have the chance to live up to my title if word got around to the company's board about my sexuality. So I don't want to say anything to her unless she makes the first move. I'm not going to make the mistake of outing myself, only for it to blow up in my face."

Buttercup rolled her eyes in annoyance. It was not towards Princess but to her situation.

"Well that fucking sucks."

Princess nodded solemnly, "Yeah. It does. And I can't really do anything about it."

"Unless you cut yourself off from your dad."

The redhead stumbled at the comment as it brought about the feuding opinions she has carried over for the past couple of months. "Can we, uh… can we move on from this conversation?"

"Of course," Buttercup replied understandingly.

Princess smiled gently, grateful for the growth her and Buttercup have made. If she was not sure if they were friends before this conversation, the redhead was sure they were now.

"Before I forget," Princess said. "I'm taste-testing for my Halloween party next weekend and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?"

Buttercup arched an eyebrow at Princess' question. A inquiry in which a yes would result in the two to hang out with each other outside of work. She watched as a decision was being made behind Buttercup's light green eyes.

The corners of her mouth turned upward as Buttercup made her mind up.

"Hell yeah, I would."

* * *

 _November 26th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _10 months ago…_

It was Thanksgiving.

In Morbucks tradition, Princess' dad invited those who were members on the board of Morbucks Industries to join in on the holiday of feasting.

By going along with the usual events of the day, after dessert, her dad and some associates would head up to his study for a few glasses of scotch and a discussion on how to end the year's profit.

Princess was forbidden to be in the room and near by it. Her father did not trust her with hearing whatever was spoken in the room.

She knew to stay away and more times than others, Princess did not care about whatever happened in the study. Her ignorance to anything unrelated to her or her lack of caring on how the Morbucks family would make money, resulted in her not to grow curious by what her dad was hiding.

However, this thanksgiving, Princess could not shake the intrigue she had. Her prolonged reservations towards her father pushed her to eavesdrop. There had to be a reason why he never wanted her to listen.

She crouched around the corner by the study, delighted by the slight crack of the door. The men inside droned on about new expansion ideas and corporate takeovers. A few individuals who would be out of a job right before Christmas and the smaller year end bonuses for lower level employees due to her dad wanting more funding for a golf course in Florida. Other than some questionable moral decisions made by the group, Princess found nothing to be jaw dropping.

Nothing she found to be worth hiding.

"Now tell me, Rex, what is your endgame here with _her_?" One of the associates asked her father over the course of their discussion. Princess' ears perked up to the mention of a her. She leaned as close as she could to the door without being noticed.

"There is no endgame."

"So this little position you gave her, it's to waste her time?"

"It's to keep her where I want her."

Princess' stomach lurched. With the small amount of context she had, it was clear they were talking about her.

"Which is?"

"Content and lazy enough to not have the thought of running Morbucks Industries."

"But how can you be so sure?" Another man pitched in. "I've heard she's quite a feisty one."

"My daughter is but she is incapable of existing without my wealth. I've seen and tested it over the past few months. And as long as I keep her well funded, she will stay far away from having any thoughts of taking over."

"Then who will take over for you when the time comes?"

"Someone who I can trust and count on to keep my legacy intact. Someone who will not ruin the Morbucks' name as I expect my daughter to do if she ever makes the mistake to defy me."

"It should also be a male," another one added. "Less of a liability, you know? No emotions to get in the way of our business."

"Yes," her father chuckled. "Yes, indeed."

Princess quickly stood, rushing away from the study. Her eyes blinked rapidly, her vision becoming blurry.

Her father did not trust her. He did not think she was capable of becoming more than a greedy and lazy individual. He never saw true growth in her these past few months. His punishment was simply a strategy to make her more dependent on him.

For her to witness how harsh life was outside of him, therefore, she would never question him again.

Too bad it did not work in the sense he wanted. That she had grown over the past couple of months and there was no stopping her from developing to her fullest. She was no longer a Morbucks in her eyes.

Instead, Princess needed to define who she was outside of her namesake.

* * *

 _October 11th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"You sure this is the right place?" Brute questioned as they drove by a run-down cabin outside of Townsville, where a red truck, green _Mustang_ , and blue _Honda_ sat in front of.

"This is the address Buttercup sent to me," Princess replied, pinching the screen of her phone's map program to make sure there was no other buildings nearby. She let out a sigh, "And its seems like this is the only place for the next four miles."

"Great," she deadpanned, turning her car to settle next to the red truck.

After parking, the two hesitantly approached the door to the place, anxious as to what was on the other side. They glanced at each other, looking for who was going to knock. Without speaking, both knew Princess was going to be the one to do so. The redhead slowly tapped her knuckles against the door, waiting for a response.

The door opened swiftly. Rose-colored eyes greeted them, while theirs' widened in surprise. Blossom stepped out of the way, letting them in. A kind smile was on display for them as they entered.

"You're here earlier than Buttercup said you would be," Blossom said as she closed the door.

Princess darted her eyes around the space, uneased by the lack of size and style—who in their right mind would accessorize their home with a deer antler light fixture? "I'm sorry but when did your mom purchase a shack in the middle of nowhere?"

"This is Brick's home."

"Brick?" The redhead questioned to herself, attempting to recall who he was. She narrowed her eyes, "Is he that gloomy guy from the lake? You know, the one who looks way too old to be hanging out with people our age?"

Blossom stared blankly at her, nodding slowly. "I suppose. He also happens to be my boyfriend, _so_ …"

"Oh…" Princess rubbed her neck awkwardly.

She was made aware by Buttercup of Blossom's presence for whatever was going to be discussed later in the day. In what would have been a dreadfully event for her in the past, Princess wanted to alter the relationship she carried with Blossom. She wanted to display the growth she had made to Blossom and was hoping for them to have a conversation to ignite a truce.

However, after unknowing insulting her boyfriend, Princess knew the once rocky path of redemption with Blossom, had become wrecked by an avalanche.

"The others are outside," Blossom commented, leading them to a door in the kitchen, ignoring the rude words made by Princess. As did Princess and Brute.

Once outside, Brute and Princess were captivated by the various motions transpiring in front of them.

To the right of them, Boomer was levitating a stream of water from a well behind Brick's home. In a circular movement of his hands, moving one clockwise and the other counterclockwise, he used the water to surround himself into a bubble. There was not an inch of him not covered by the circular wall of water, but from what Princess could see, the inside of the bubble was dry. As he grew more confident with his ability to control the bubble, the transparent walls began to expand around him, allowing about five feet of space in each direction covered by the dome of water.

In the middle, Bubbles and Buttercup were sparring with each other. Bolts of lightning flashed towards the blonde, escaping from the tips of Buttercup's fingers. Her footing moving in a hypnotic pace as she tried to gain an advantage.

Bubbles took her time, pausing to concentrate. Her eyes shut, her eyebrow twitching. Without even seeing, she create a shield out of a thick block of ice. The lightning from Buttercup was incapable of breaking through the shield when striking the ice. A loud crackling sound did, however, alert all that the lightning cut through a part of the topical layer of the ice. Bubbles let the shield melt in her hands, dropping into a puddle on the desert sand beneath her. Slowly, shards of ice grew in the palms of her hands, appearing to be long icicle spears. She began throwing them in Buttercup's direction, while continuous creating new ones without tiring down.

Princess focused her eyes on Buttercup, taking notice to how exhausted she seemed from the fighting. Her chest rapidly sunk in and out in a heavy pace. Strands of her hair flowing wildly into her face, out of place from the strong force used to conjure up her lightning. Her light green eyes darted in the opposite direction of Bubbles, her jaw grinding together.

She had lost her focus and attention in the fight, it appeared. Bubbles easily had her subdued with a frosty breath in a matter of a few more seconds. The blonde went to the dark-haired girl, withdrawing the lingering frost on her. Both taking a moment to breathe after an good amount of energy was burned from their battle. Their backs were against the tan sand as they laid side by side. Their chests moving in sync to replenish their bodies of oxygen.

To the left, Butch and Brick were together. Princess arched an eyebrow, realizing this was where Buttercup focused her attention to before finding herself in defeat at the hands of Bubbles. The green-eyed male and his break up had a large effect of Buttercup, Princess noted. So much, it was ruining her abilities to control her powers.

The two males stood opposite of each other, in similar stances. Their feet deeply rooted in the ground. One hand free while the other was tightly coiled into a fist. Butch was the first to do something, his hand fanning out in a continuous pace as he made a deep cut into the ground. It was not a long fracture into the Earth—it was about the size of Princess' torso.

Brick did not seem impressed by Butch's actions. He let out a tired sigh before flexing out his fist, lifting up his newly flattened hand. As he did this, lava rose for the crack Butch had created. A small amount of molten bubbling liquid simmered out in the open. Butch grinned, proud of their teamwork but his joy was soon dissipated as Brick began lecturing him about technique and focus.

"What is all of this?" Brute questioned in awe.

"They're practicing," Blossom answered. Her eyes had been in Butch and Brick's direction more than the others, Princess realized. "They all been training and improving their powers."

"Well, whatever they just did, I thought could only exist on television. So color me impressed."

Blossom flashed a smile to Brute, "I'll let them know. I'm sure it will make them feel more confident with their abilities."

"Why aren't you practicing?" Princess inquired, attempting to meet the redhead's eyes but she would not allow it.

"My powers… They are not easy to command nor does Brick know how to train me like he does with the others."

"Oh."

"Brute." Princess took notice to how the pair of pink eyes were able to meet Brute's but not her's. "I believe Brick wanted to talk to you alone. Something about exchanging information."

Brute arched an eyebrow before sighing. Her head hung a bit low. "I see. I'll go now."

Princess wanted to ask what Blossom meant by information. As far as she was concerned, Brute had no relation with the redhead male. The idea of them having anything to discuss, greatly perplexed her.

Brute did not give Princess a single glance as she headed towards Brick, leaving the redhead even more confused.

Also, a little disappointed.

It took Princess a few seconds to realize she stood alone with Blossom now. She awkwardly rubbed her arms, sneaking looks at the girl beside her.

She did not notice since Blossom's focus was on Brick and Butch again—who were joined by Brute now.

"So…" Princess attempted to ease the obvious tension between them. "You're, like, into older guys? Isn't Brick like, I don't know, _thirty_?"

Blossom threw a side glance to her. "He turned twenty-three at the beginning of last August."

"Oh…" Princess tilted her head, her gaze steadying on the redhead male. There was something about him in which was incredibly different from all of them. His eye reflected years of pain, she assumed, in which aged him beyond years. He did not have an inner child, it seemed. A lack of joy for life. A bitterness that should not exist in such a large quantity in a twenty-three year old's body. "Perhaps he just has a grumpy face. He should smile more."

She heard Blossom suck in a tight breath before speaking. "I know we have unresolved issues, Princess, but can you please leave Brick out of this? Attacking him to get at me—"

"I wasn't doing that!" Princess quickly interjected. "I just… I don't know," she shrugged. "Have no filter?"

"Mmmm…"

"Look, Blossom." The redhead reached out for the pink-eyed girl, settling her hand on her shoulder. This forced Blossom to meet her eyes finally.

But when she looked at them, they seemed blank. As if they were in another world...

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

"We need to leave," Buttercup said through her teeth. Sparks of electricity illuminating around her from her fingertips as she tried to hit alternative forms of the shadows on the beach of the lake. "We were outsmarted."

Princess summoned a vine, whipping the greenery in the direction of the shadows. "But what about the others? We can't leave them."

"Forget them. They'll understand."

"No, Buttercup," Princess challenged, using more vines to create a blockade around them. She winced from the ongoing signals of pain she felt from the plants. She hated combat. Even if she was never physically harmed herself, Princess felt as if she had died a thousands of times. "They're our friends and we can't make it through this without them."

"Friends?" She snorted, abruptly turning on her heel to jolt a few shadows who attempted to sneak up on them from the other side of the blockade. "They all will betray us when the time comes. Just like—"

"You're being irrational!"

"No. I'm being practical, Princess."

"Then…" Princess studied her friend. Her ever-present stubbornness was fully on display, allowing the redhead to know Buttercup was not going to change her mind. She truly believed there was no loyalty left. She no longer had enough love in her for others. She no longer felt enough love to believe in anything.

Her hope was all gone. Her spirit was broken. She was no longer the person Princess had become friends with.

She was a dark shadow of herself.

Princess felt her eyes grow warmer as she withdrew the blockade.

"What the hell are you doing?" Buttercup growled, sending jolts of lightning in the opposite directions. Her aim was largely off as she hit a tree in the distance instead.

"Going to help the others," she murmured. Her hands moved in a fluid motion as a thick vine was erupted from the ground. The long vine was moving in a rapid pace to stretch across the lake's beach. She took a step onto the vine, riding it like a surfboard as it transported her towards the others.

In one last glance, Princess watched as Buttercup defended herself. She knew Buttercup would see her action as betrayal.

But Princess felt Buttercup was the one who committed the betrayal first.

She gave up on her friends. She lost sight in the true goal of all of this.

As Princess wiped away a tear, with Buttercup growing smaller with distance, she silently made peace with the loss of her friend.

* * *

 _October 11th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom inhaled quietly, her eyes blinking herself back to the present.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Blossom sighed. "Just fine."

Princess took this as a sign to continue with what she had to say before Blossom spaced out.

"So, like, I was trying to say, Blossom, this is long overdue and you should have been the first one instead of all of your friends, but I'm genuinely sorry for how I treated you in the past. You never truly deserved any of it. I was just…" Princess lowered her head, removing her hand from Blossom's shoulder. "You see… I was jealous of you. You were everything I wanted to be. And you were also everything Daddy would want in a daughter. I'm sure if you were a Morbucks, he would be proud to claim you as his own daughter, instead of… instead of being an afterthought or something to be ashamed of…"

There was a long pause. For a moment, the redhead thought Blossom was not going to say anything. That she was not going to forgive her. That Princess was too many years late with an apology.

"Is that how he makes you feel?" Blossom whispered.

Princess nodded hesitantly. "But it doesn't matter."

"It does. You shouldn't be treated like that. Especially by your father."

"Daddy… he is not meant to be a parent. I've come to terms with that…"

She felt Blossom's eyes watching her with sympathy. "...You deserve better, Princess."

Princess gave her a weak glance, "You really mean that?"

"Of course," Blossom replied sincerely.

"But I thought you hated me? You can't truly mean that if you do."

"Were there moments where you would annoy me to no ends? Yes. Were there moments where you were my least favorite person? Oh yeah. But hate you? No. I could not hate you because I _finally_ understand why you behaved in such a way." She let out a sigh before continuing. "The pressure of fitting into the molds our parents want us to become. The need to prove you are just as remarkable as your parent. But also to make sure they love you more than you being their precious object to carry on their legacy? It's hard to remain in a good nature when having to deal with such… _complications_."

For the first time, Princess had finally felt assure in her thoughts towards her dad. To know Blossom experienced or was experiencing a similar situation, made the redhead feel more at ease. To know she was not alone.

To know she had an example of how to grow into the person she wanted to be despite, as Blossom said, complications.

"You did," Princess said quietly after a moment. "That's why I was jealous of you, which I shouldn't have let a childish form of envy blind me for so long. Maybe then I wouldn't have felt so lost with all this happening with Daddy."

"There's nothing to be envious about me, Princess. I'm not as nearly together as it may seem," Blossom remarked. Her voice low but she did not seem ashamed by what she was saying. The redhead was simply stating the truth. A truth she had long accepted. "Perhaps my mother did a more excellent job at passing on a poker face to me but, _trust me_ , I'm a giant mess. Actually, I might be more of a disaster since my mistakes are usually like supernovas compared to everyone else's."

"Well…" Princess paused, taking a second to appreciate the bonding moment they were sharing. The path of redemption with Blossom had been smoothed over and much easier to travel than she expected. "From what I know, mistakes can only make us stronger. Certain people face more adversity because they are destined for bigger things. You just to have to learn and let yourself grow, because in the end, Blossom, all of this will only make you unstoppable."

"...Thank you," she murmured.

Princess met her eyes, taking in the soft smile Blossom held. She returned the expression.

"No problem."

* * *

"Do you really think we should be trusting her?" Butch questioned, shoving his hand in Brute's direction.

After training, all of them went back inside Brick's house to unwind. Needing to make up for the depletion of energy that came with using their powers for a long length of time, Blossom had ordered pizza twenty minutes beforehand. Before their meals arrived, the group took the time to explain to Brute and Princess about the information they knew. All were willing to share except for Butch, which was why he was questioning Brute's loyalty.

Boomer and Bubbles were currently sharing a white pizza. The blondes sat on the floor in front of Brick's fireplace with the pizza box separating them.

Buttercup, Brute, and Princess were each consuming a meat lover's. Princess resisted the mental disgust she felt from eating so much meat and grease but her stomach betrayed her in enjoying the meal. The trio took control of the dinner table in the kitchen. Princess and Brute had decided to sit next to each other on one side, their chairs turned to face the living area while Buttercup was at the head of the table. Her chair turned in a slanted direction.

A box of Margherita pizza sat on Brick's lap, shared by him and Blossom. The couple sat cozily next to each other on the couch, being the focal point of where everyone else's line of vision met.

Butch had a stack of boxes next to him, each containing one of a different combination provided by the pizza shop as Blossom had ordered all of the types for him. He had taking the remaining chair from the dining table and brought it into the living area like he has done many times before.

Brute rolled her eyes, pointing her uneaten crust at him, "Says the guy who is sleeping with the enemy."

"Yeah, well, I…" Butch fumbled before chewing on his pizza spitefully.

Buttercup chuckled to herself, tossing her eyes to Brute, "I think I'm going to enjoy having you around."

"Really?" Butch retorted, an eyebrow arched as he spoke with his food half-chewed. "You're still going to be hostile?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Buttercup seethed, sending him daggers. "You lied to me. And maybe, Brute is on to something. If you were able to lie to me for so long, who knows what else you could be lying about?"

There was something in Butch's eyes in which caused them to cloud over with a darkness.

"You know, Buttercup. I really thought we could move past everything and at least become friends again one day but forget that shit. Not when you're going to accuse me of shady shit when all I fucking did to you was make a decision to provide you will the least amount of heartbreak," Butch fumed as Buttercup appeared to remain unfazed. If only she did not let her body cave in sorrowfully from his words, then it would have seemed as if she was unaffected. "Stay bitter for all I care. You're not my responsibility any—"

"Butch." Blossom interjected calmly. His emerald eyes immediately went to her. "This is not the time nor place to discuss that right now. Okay?"

He nodded, muttering an apology under his breath. The darkness within his eyes retreating away.

"Well if we're done catching Brute and Princess up, may I ask what is next?" Bubbles inquired to ease the tension in the room, dabbing the corners of her mouth lightly with a napkin. "More training?"

"I could help Princess out," Brick acknowledged. "If she's willing."

"I would love too," she grinned.

"But we don't know her powers," Boomer pointed out. He glanced over, realizing only half of them agreed with him. "Or at least, half of us don't know."

"I can control plants," she revealed casually.

The blond widened his eyes excitedly. "Oh my god… The red hair. The ambiguous set of morals and ethics. The ability to control plants. You're literally _Poison Ivy_."

Princess nodded along to his comment despite not having the slightest clue as to who he was referring to.

"Plant powers sound pretty sick," Butch commented before taking a large bite out of a slice of Hawaiian pizza. He chewed quickly before speaking again. "Why did you act like it was the plague or something?"

"Um… well, you see, to put it short, I can talk to plants," she said sheepishly. Her hand rubbed her neck awkwardly as, other than Buttercup and Brute, they did not understand how it was such a problem. "More so, they can talk to me, which is not pleasant since they can be pretty overpowering at times. Especially when they are in pain. You should should see me when Daddy has the lawn cut."

"Oh," Boomer cringed.

"Yikes," Butch added.

"You could fix that," Brick said with a shrug. He proceeded to close the pizza box on his lap, placing it beside him and leaning back into his couch. Blossom took the initiative to snuggle closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder while he snaked his arm around her, his hand absentmindedly stroke her arm.

"How?" She exasperated.

His ruby-colored eyes focused on her's. "You need to get a grasp on your emotions. Your side effect is behaving so strongly because you must be conflicted emotionally about something important."

Princess' eyes went to Brute for a brief moment before going to back to Brick's. "Could you help me with that?"

"Unfortunately, that's something you need to figure out on your own, since it is your feelings and all. I may not interpret them how you might want them to be interpreted."

Princess nodded, understanding what he meant but did not hide the disappointment she had.

Brute must have noticed as she reached out and brushed her fingertips against Princess' arm to gain her attention. The redhead looked up to find Brute smiling softly at her in support. Princess took up the same expression, feeling her dissatisfaction from a few moments ago disappear.

"You know, if you think about it," Boomer pitched in, gaining everyone's undivided attention. "We have the numbers on our side now."

" _Do we really_?" Butch asked skeptically.

The blond nodded, counting off on his fingers. "With the six of us, and then Brute and Princess, we have eight on our side; while Him has only two."

"Which are Berserk and Brat, I'm assuming," Brute said solemnly.

Boomer tossed his eyes to Butch for a moment, unable to read the expression he had towards the reality of his girlfriend working against them. In his gut, the blond felt unsure on whether they should trust Butch anymore. It was suspicious for him to be okay with the idea of Berserk working with an inter-dimensional demon bent on destroying the world. Love, not matter how strong it was, could not truly be that blind.

"Yes."

"What about Ace?" Princess questioned. "Where is he in all of this?"

"Hopefully eaten by a vulture," Buttercup answered under her breath.

Princess arched her eyebrow, "Um… How?"

"Eh," she shrugged. "Let's just say he got lost in the desert."

The redhead narrowed her eyes at Buttercup, attempting to grasp what she was implying as the conversation continued with Bubbles adding on to it.

"We still don't know where Robin is either."

"Well that was supposed to be Boomer's job," Buttercup recalled, putting the blond male on the hot seat.

"I, uh… I didn't, you know, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable," he fumbled.

"You don't know how to approach the subject, do you?"

Boomer hung his head low, "Not the slightest clue."

"You should try building a sense of trust with her," Princess chimed. Boomer glanced up at her, puzzled by what she meant. "Tell her some personal stuff about yourself, make her feel comfortable enough to be open, and then turn it onto her."

"I like that," Buttercup grinned. Her green eyes focused sharply onto Boomer. "You will do exactly what she suggested."

"But isn't that manipulative?"

"You will do it, Boomer," she pressed on. "Robin is the only one who is still a question mark to us. And quite frankly, the sooner we get information from her, the sooner this can all be over with."

Butch snorted from across the room, gaining a harsh stare from Buttercup. "You all honestly expect to get information from Robin?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Bubbles asked.

"I don't know… There's just something about her…" he trailed off.

"I don't think she's trustworthy," Brick commented.

"Is that based on other timelines?"

"No, Bubbles. She's just been _too_ quiet through all of this."

"Which is why Boomer needs to get a move on with buddying up with her," Buttercup interjected.

"Fine," the blond huffed out in frustration. "But do not think if we were in any other situation, I would willingly do this."

"We wouldn't expect you to, Boom. You're too kind," Bubbles eased, smiling sweetly at him. Boomer returned the expression, grateful for her reassurance. "And if it's too much, perhaps I could talk to her. I could try getting her to meet up with all of us."

"I like that plan better," the blond replied.

"That would be our back-up plan," Buttercup remarked. "But we will not let her come here. Like Brick said, she has been too quiet, which makes her untrustworthy."

"Alright."

"So then you are correct," Brute said after a beat, staring in Boomer's direction. "We do have the numbers on our side. If we were at war, we would have the upper-hand."

"Except, we are at war," Butch pointed out, opening up a new box of pizza. It was his fifth one. "With an inter-dimensional demon, may I add."

"A war without battles," Brick addressed.

"There was the one on Labor Day," Boomer acknowledged, his hand instinctively going to his neck despite the damage from the shadow's grip was no longer visible. "But… That one had _less_ than stellar results."

"We didn't have the numbers then," Butch added.

"But we do now."

"Are you suggesting we should do something, Boom? Mister We-should-stay-low wants to go into battle?"

"No!" The blond exclaimed, petrified by the idea Butch was presenting. "Attempting to doing anything right now would be disastrous."

"Would it really?"

"Yes! There's no way we can come up with a full-proof plan that could work at the moment."

"... _But what if we did_?"

The room diverted their attention to the pink-eyed redhead on the couch, who spoke for the first time since calming Butch down. The gears in her head turning in a rapid pace from the various ideas in which she was formulating.

"Blossom, it would be a terrible idea. We don't even know how to stop Him, let alone have an opportunity that would be perfect enough to execute it."

"I have to get to the center of the lake," she recalled. "We stop the time loop so Him cannot have the chance to reboot everything when we beat him. After that, we just use the numbers to our advantage and take Him and his associates down."

"That's what we _assume_ we have to do. We don't know for sure if that is true. We don't even know what you're supposed to do at the center of the lake. Even if we did, your powers have not been entirely reliable, Blossom," Boomer cautioned. "And what about the keys of chaos that Brick talked about? We don't even know what the hell those are or how Him is supposed to get them."

"But we wouldn't know if we don't try something, Boomer."

"How would we even get you there? By boat? Isn't that Him's territory? We would get killed the second he spots us on the water," Boomer challenged.

"He's right," Butch nodded. "Unless we can magically breath underwater, there's no way."

Blossom's eyes widened at Butch's words. "Or we can create a way to transport us under the lake."

"Like a submarine?"

"More like a bubble, Butch," she corrected. Her stare focused onto Boomer, who immediately waved his hands in disapproval.

"You want me to transport us under the lake with that bubble trick I was practicing today? I'm sorry, Blossom. You're usually the most intelligent one here but right now, you're being absolutely insane."

She glanced around the room, studying everyone's faces. "Am I though?"

"Yes!" Boomer exclaimed. "You're also jumping the gun here."

"I don't know, Boom. If we go through with this and it works, we could be done with all of this Him stuff," Buttercup presented, resulting in a smile from Blossom.

"I'm with Blossom," Princess added.

"Me too," Bubbles chimed.

"Really?" Boomer whispered, oozing with a sense of hurt by her decision.

Bubbles nodded, "If we go at Him now, we might have the element of surprise. He probably expects us to do something around New Year's since that's when the timeline seems to expire when there are no results made."

"But—"

"So that's four against one," Buttercup interrupted. "Anyone else wants to vote?"

"I'm with making a move," Butch replied with a shrug. "Might actually make things exciting for once."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, turning to the green-eyed girl beside her, "Not that it will count anymore but, Brute, care to share your opinion?"

"Yeah, no," she answered, shaking her head. "I want to be involved to a certain degree and this plan is way beyond my comfort level. I would also like to point out, I'm the only out lesbian in Townsville and I would be damned if I fall into the bury the gays category because of some shit you all dragged me into."

Buttercup blinked at her in a response, giving a single nod. "Okay then. Um…" Her eyes darted to Brick. "Brick, have anything to add?"

He glanced at Blossom for a moment, hesitating to speak. "I think we should spend more time planning on something for a later date than attacking now. It would give everyone more time to master their abilities." His eyes went to Butch as his words were most geared towards him. "Then there's the fact Him will have his eyes on us even before we reach the lake. And if Boomer isn't comfortable carrying out the most important task, it's pretty clear to me that this isn't an idea we should engage in."

"What if we did it on Halloween?" Princess pitched in abruptly. The others expressed confusion as to what the significance of the date entailed. The redhead inhaled sharply, not used to having others' wholeheartedly listening to an idea of her's. If she spoke to her father like this, Princess would have already been shut down by him. "All of town will be at my party, so it will give us the perfect cover. Him will be expecting all of you to be there, so he will be focused on watching over the party. Then Brute and I could keep Brat and Berserk distracted from noticing if all of you leave. And by having it on Halloween, it gives us about three weeks to train more and get Boomer more comfortable with his bubble transportation trick. Plus, it can keep the town's people safe since they all will be far away from the lake if something did happen."

Princess waited for a response as the others considered her idea. From Brute's face, she could tell the dark-haired girl was a fan.

"I think that is the best opportunity for us," Blossom replied.

"Agreed," Bubbles added.

"Same," Buttercup and Brute said in unison.

"It would make for a pretty spooky Halloween," Butch grinned.

"I still don't like it," Boomer remarked. "The lake is about three miles long and I don't even know how my bubble will withstand under the large amounts of water pressure like it would need to under the lake—"

"You could practice in my pool," Princess interjected. "The deep end is about eighteen feet."

"Don't you have staff everywhere?"

"Not if I threaten them to stay away."

Boomer smiled at her halfheartedly, "Ambiguous use of ethics, I see…" The corner of his mouth turned downward again, "But I'm still not on board with all of this. I think we're being a bit too brash with planning. However," he sighed heavy. "If this is what everyone else wants, I… I can't quit on us now."

"That a boy, Boom," Butch approved.

"Then it's settled," Blossom decided. "On Halloween, we will take the first real step in ending all of this."

The others nodded, each ranging in different expressions of emotions.

No one in the room was more pleased than Princess. For once since quitting her job at Ralph's, she felt useful and productive. Not to mention, it was nice to have a group of individuals believe in her idea. More so, to even consider to listen to her.

It was behavior she was not accustomed to at home or at work. It was behavior Princess knew she should be used to.

In this moment, Princess felt she was worthy. She knew her growth as a person had lead to all of this. And so, she would relish in the moment, enjoying the rest of the conversation to lay out the smaller details to the plan.

As the rest carried on to voice their opinions, no one seemed to notice on how Brick never agreed to Princess' Halloween. Nor did they caught on to his lack of expressing any concerns to the minor details. No one was aware of how illy he felt about the whole idea.

Of how he could not shake the feeling that if they go through with it, they all would be doomed.

* * *

"Well, that was an eventful afternoon," Brute commented as they strolled around Princess' rose garden. They had returned to the Morbucks' estate a few moments ago but decided to remain outside to privately discuss the information divulged to them as the night staff on Morbucks manor were all inside during the late hours of the night.

The moon shimmered down on them, lighting their pathway through the sweet-scented garden. Rosebuds were held together tightly, not ready to bloom to their fullest yet but were soon to reveal themselves and their beauty.

"I'm just happy they trusted us," Princess confessed. "I wouldn't want to make enemies out of the six of them."

"Me either, girl."

"And it's nice having a clue as to what is going on. Daddy doesn't let me know of any plans for Morbucks Industries outside of the social media realm. Nor does he care to listen to any of my ideas." Princess paused to grin bashfully for a moment. "But they believe in me. They actually listened and liked what I said to say. That's something Daddy could never come to do."

Brute nodded quietly. Her eyes danced over Princess' delighted expression.

"You know… I… I believe in you too," Brute whispered nervously. Her hand went anxiously to her hair, pulling on one of her coiled curls. "I've always have."

Princess paused her footing, turning towards Brute, who followed in the redhead's decision to stop. Her dark eyes held a steady focus on Brute's.

"Yes. I've been aware…"

"Oh," Brute gulped. "Well, um, I… I guess… what I'm trying to say is… I, uh, like you, Princess—And not like, in a friendship type of way—Well I do like our friendship," she interjected through her fumbled confession of feelings. "But I, uh, I think you're cute, and… yeah…"

Princess blinked at her first, but then a smile curled at the corner of her mouth. She could not detail how many times she has thought about this moment and how she was going to handle the ordeal. Millions of scenarios existed in the her mind. Thousands of fears about her sexuality being discovered. But as Princess heard Brute speak about her feelings for her, the redhead threw out all of those ideas and frightening thoughts.

What she was going to do, was quite simple.

"I see."

"But like, I totally get if you are not interested," Brute pointed out hastily. "I understand if you—"

Before the green-eyed girl could finish her sentence, a pair of soft lips had interrupted her. Princess' hands were perched on Brute's slim shoulders as Brute's entire body melted when the realization of what was happening came to her. Her eyes fluttered shut while her arms wrapped around Princess' waist, happily returning the kiss.

"I, uh… That was nice," Brute breathed after breaking apart a few moments later.

Princess chuckled lightly, "Indeed. It was."

Brute grinned brightly at the redhead before her eyes widened, "Wait. So does this mean you like me too?"

"Yes. It does," Princess answered with a smile and warm cheeks. "I have for sometime now..."

"Oh," Brute replied, surprised by Princess' revelation. "Well shit, if I had known that, I would have said something way sooner."

"Eh," the redhead shrugged, inching her face closer to Brute's again. "I rather have this moment," she whispered against her lips before becoming captivated by them once again.

* * *

"Things are becoming dicey," Ace vocalized. His dark eyes settled on the calm movement of the lake. A cigarette was slowly burning in between his fingers. A trail of thin smoke flowing from the narrow roll of paper. "Brute has jumped ship and Princess is no longer an option. We're outnumbered now."

"Yes, I know," Him said begrudgingly. Anger radiated at an alarmingly rate from his wispy state of being. "Things are more difficult than I would like."

"So does this mean—"

"No. Not yet."

"But—"

"You will not defy me," Him roared.

Ominous clouds began to surround them swiftly, whirling in a furious pace. The darkness of them began to suffocate Ace. His chest tightened, restrained and unable to open his airways. The blood inside his head pulsated with intensity. With the few thoughts he could put together, Ace believed his head was literally about to explode.

But just as sudden as the clouds came to them, they left. Ace fell to his knees, landing on the small flame from the cigarette he had dropped, grasping the gravel of the beach to gain a solid grip on something to keep him up. His body was dangerously weak. One strong breeze, and he could be done for. His head feeling as if it was split into two and could never be mended back in place.

He coughed when trying to regain his breathing. Spouts of blood dripped down his chin and onto the tiny pebbles of the ground. The sticky, metallic scented fluid stuck out greatly against among the grains of the lake's beach.

Ace felt his body jerk upward without his own demands. His frail being was pushed up against a pine tree, unable to move at his own will. A heavy force kept him in place. It felt as if there were a thousand pounds pressed up against him.

Him's shadowy body sprouted up next to him. A hazy hand caressed his thin but sharp face.

"Do we have a better understanding now?" Him asked. His tone letting Ace know how pleased the demonic spirit was.

"...y… yes," Ace choked out. Blood droplets flew in the air from his singular use of speech.

"Excellent."

In a second, the force holding him was gone, allowing Ace to fall to the ground. He groaned loudly to himself as his entire body ached from his torment.

Him did not seem to care as the shadow was focused on the lake again.

"Now that you know your place, you must understand that everything will work out in our favor," Him boasted. His transparent eyes glanced down at Ace in a sinister manner. "Especially now that I have an associate on the inside…"


	10. The Camouflage: Part Two

_July 4th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _4 years ago…_

Princess Morbucks was known for throwing the most extravagant parties. Her birthday, Labor Day, Halloween, New Years, etc. All were incredible, detail-oriented and flamboyant ways to show off her father's wealth.

The Fourth of July was no exception. Taking place on Lake Canem Loquentes, each year grew more and more in it's extensiveness. Three years ago, she held jet ski races for the entire town. A year ago, she had a top-selling artist put on a private concert for only the citizens of Townsville.

And while this year, the townsfolk had no idea what Princess had up her sleeve for the day, they all were ecstatic to see.

All except for Robin Snyder, whose parents neglected to remember their own daughter's existence when leaving for the day's festivities at the lake.

Lacking a driver's license due to only being fifteen and with everyone already at the lake by this time in the day, Robin knew she would not be able to attend. She would be the only one in town not going.

Instead, the brunette was left with the solitude of her room, like most days of her life. Her eyes warm and bloodshot from never being relevant to anyone, even to her parents. Parents who should care more for their only child but acted more like a couple who chose a childless marriage.

Robin should be used to it. The idea of being invisible to them. She never knew why they did not notice her or why it seemed to happen everywhere else she went. At school, no one spoke to her. Classmates would overtake tables in the cafeteria where she sat without any acknowledgement to her. Shoulders bumped into her at a record amount of times without an utterances of an apology. Teachers forgot to call out her name during attendance; and when they did remember to say her name, she would be penciled in as absent despite raising her hand to say the exact opposite.

No one would notice her, she realized at the age of nine. She was a forgettable and unremarkable person. A terrible, awful, unhealthy and sad thought to have but Robin wanted to be honest with herself.

Her only friends were _F. Scott Fitzgerald_ , _Jane Austen_ , _Charlotte Brontë_ , and _William Shakespeare_. They were the only ones who would speak to her, even if their conversations were always one-sided. Literature has become the singular thing to comfort her and her undesirable solitude.

As she glanced out the window of her room, rubbing gently at her eyelids, Robin knew that even if her parents did not forget about her, no one would have cared if she showed up. That she would have spent the entire time sitting on a rock with her nose deep into another literary classic. Her tears were meaning less, in retrospect, just as she felt she was to others.

* * *

 _October 17th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Walking around town has become a particular habit of Robin's since she has discovered her ability of becoming invisible. She would wander around, watching and listening to those around her, who were unaware of the uninvited presence involved in their conversations. Since no one else wanted to inform her on the transpiring events in Townsville, Robin knew she had to go out and learn about them herself.

Just like before.

The only difference this time around was, she did not have to sneak around and cower behind walls and corners. No more blending into crowds. Or feeling like a phantom among the living when those who could have spotted her, did not.

She was truly invisible, not figuratively; and somehow, it made Robin feel better about herself. There were no longer any questions as to why no one noticed her.

On these days in which she eavesdropped on the fellow natives of Townsville, Robin liked starting out at Otto's in morning. She would share a booth with whoever she found to be the most interesting. The ones who Robin felt had the most secrets for her to discover.

This morning, it happened to be Brick and Blossom.

The two redheads sat in the back booth of diner, away from everyone else, sitting opposite of each other. A quiet conversation was going on between them while they waited for their food.

Robin grinned proudly to herself, going unnoticed as she slid in beside Blossom.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," Brick worried. His hands had a tight grip on the coffee mug in front of him. Steam drifted up from the cup, still freshly hot from being poured.

 _Or from other things_ , Robin reminded herself.

"How come?" Blossom questioned. Her chin was laying in the palm of her hand. A glass of orange juice sat next to her elbow.

"It's not safe—"

"Please tell me Boomer has not gotten to you."

Robin felt her stomach rapidly drop from the mention of Boomer's name.

"No. This is my own grievance."

"Okay," Blossom nodded with a caring smile. "Then what is so unsafe about it?"

Brick glanced out the window nervously. "I, um… I don't know how to swim," he said under his breath. His words were almost incoherent to Robin and Blossom as the redhead seemed to have to lean forward a little into the table to hear him.

She went back into the worn out leather-back of the booth. Her eyebrow raised at him, "You can't?"

"Nope."

"I think you're lying," she challenged him with a grin.

Robin could tell Blossom did not truly think Brick was being dishonest with her. Instead the redhead was attempting to get a little rise out of him for the fun of it.

"Yeah, because between the water moccasin and alligator infested waters of Louisiana, and the lack of _normal_ bodies of water in Arizona, I _definitely_ had time to learn."

"I'm just teasing you."

"Uh huh, sure."

"Come on, Brick," Blossom appeased. Her hand moved across the table. Robin's focus went along with it, finding her hand to be resting alone in the middle of the table before being met with Brick's own hand. Their fingers entwining with each other in a private moment between them.

 _A not so private_ , private moment between them.

He watched her intensely. A glance over of her face before settling on her eyes. The slow display of a small, crooked smile on his lips.

Red, in Robin's opinion, was a powerful color. The hue of fiery passion and sin. Of murder and blood. Hatred and anger. A warning to danger. A shade that could be so harsh to one's eye.

Yet, as she looked into Brick's ruby-colored eyes, Robin could only find a softness within them. No longer did they strike fear in her or unsettled her. The power of the color was at full mercy to Blossom. Adoration was the true item conveyed from the seemingly rich hue.

Robin has only read about moments like these. Moments of nothing but genuine feelings of love between two people. The type to make any reader melt from paragraphs about a simple glance or touch between lovers.

A moment, in which, Robin wished she could experience herself.

"I just feel like there are other things we could do on Halloween," Brick explained quietly.

Blossom pursed her lips for a moment, "What about instead of you coming, you stay—"

"Absolutely not. I'm not letting you go without me."

"The others will be with me."

"But what if—"

Before Brick could finish, their server had arrived with two plates of food—waffles with whipped cream and strawberries for Blossom; over-easy eggs, bacon, and dry toast for Brick—interrupting their conversation. The two redheads seemed to have telepathically decided to table their discuss for later because they changed the subject, talking about Brick's latest material for studying instead.

Robin narrowed her eyes at them, frustrated by the sudden drop in conversation. They must not want anyone listening, and with the waitress' slight brush of overhearing them, it must have prompted the two to change their discussion material.

Which left Robin wondering what was the big deal about Halloween?

* * *

 _November 18th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _3 years ago…_

Robin huffed to herself, navigating the busy hallways of North Townsville High. Knowing no one would bother to make way for her, the brunette had to swerve between her oblivious classmates. She passed by the punks and Princess, who were deep in a conversation about sneaking out to Citiesville for the weekend.

There was Blossom and Bubbles opening their respective lockers, discussing their latest geometry exam and how they differ in feelings about it—Bubbles felt she had failed while Blossom wished it was more challenging. Buttercup was speaking to a curly-haired blonde beside the pair in heavy flirtation, while Butch pretended not to notice from down the hall by his locker.

Robin rolled her eyes at this as she dodged a classmate. She has known about Butch's crush on Buttercup since the seventh grade after she had overheard a conversation between him and Boomer about it. Three years of knowing the green-eyed male's secret yet he has not done anything about it. Instead he wanted to live in agony about his feelings for his supposive best friend.

As she glanced over to Butch one more time before making a sharp turn down the science hallway of her high school, Robin clipped her shoulder into a firm body, knocking the books and notebook in her arms to the ground.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," she sighed tiredly, squatting down to pick up her books. Robin did not bother to look up at the person since this was a regular occurrence for her. It was better to get out of her other classmate's way than to have an exchange of words with someone who did not care about her.

She was, however, pleasantly surprised by receiving an apologize. Those were rare to come by. In fact, Robin could only recall getting one from bumping into Blossom one afternoon during their freshman year.

"Here, let me help," the person replied. A hand stretched out to hand over her physics textbook, a tight grip displaying the fine definition of their hand muscles. Robin, taken back by their kind gesture, led her eyes up from the ground to them, taking in the _Nike_ sneakers, black jeans and soft navy tee-shirt before meeting their ocean blue eyes and moppy blond hair.

"You don't have to, Boomer. It's fine," Robin answered, taking the book from his hand. Her fingertips brushed up lightly against his. A small smile crept up on the corner of her mouth as a slight simmer of heat arose in her cheeks. She was not used to making physical contact with someone in such a manner. Unexpected, harsh bumps in the shoulders were what she was more accustomed to; not soft touches of hands. "I got this."

"Hey, I bumped into you. This is the least I can do," He responded, gazing down at the next item he picked up from the floor. His blue eyes shined brightly at the object. "Hold on." Boomer flashed the bright booklet to her. Vibrant colors of the cover helped her recognize it immediately, resulting in her to grow a complete shade of tomato red. "You read _The Justice Friends_?"

"Um… yeah," she said sheepishly, unable to meet his eyes at her embarrassing admission. Her love of comic books were a guilty pleasure of her's. One that she liked to keep secret. Robin double-checked the tiled flooring of her school's hallway for anymore of her belongings, rising back up when confirming to have everything.

"This is my favorite comic book series," Boomer grinned, following her actions of standing up. He then flipped through the pages of the comic book before glancing over the cover again. "I love this issue too. When _Major Glory_ sacrifices himself so that _Valhallen_ and _The Infraggable Krunk_ can live, I swear I was an emotional wreck for the next two weeks."

"Which is about the time he was resurrected," Robin snorted. Her baby blue eyes widened afterward, growing self-conscious for mocking Boomer's love for the storyline. She watched as he began to chuckle, shaking his head. A sight, in which, calmed her down. The redness of her face returned to the singular location of her cheeks now.

"Yeah. They never let anyone's death stay permanent in comics nowadays. I mean, _Jason Todd_ , _Bucky Barnes_ ," he listed with a grin. "They were supposed to be the standard of meaningful deaths in comic books, but nowadays they're the most popular characters in comics it seems."

"At least _Uncle Ben_ is still dead," she pointed out.

Boomer wagged his finger at her, nodding, "You're not wrong. And don't forget all the significant others who died in vain of the main heroes storyline."

"Who are usually woman," Robin added on, her eyebrow arched.

"Hey, _Steve Trevor_ died."

"Yeah, like twenty different times for shock value. But he's always brought back to life."

"Yeah, you do have a point... I guess _DC Comics_ cannot let the poor guy Rest In Peace." Boomer scratched at the back of his head, grinning at Robin. He gave off a look she was not used to. An expression of acknowledgment. Of acceptance. Of noticing her and seeing her as a person just as he was. Of her being the one person at the moment in which had captured his full and undivided attention.

For this reason, Robin felt weak in her knees. Her breathing becoming shallower from nervousness as her heart grew heavier in her chest. The palms of her hands produced enough sweat to match the amount she had experienced during the previous summer. If Boomer were to brush up against her once more, Robin knew her body would melt into a puddle of newly developed emotions.

"Or they don't want to invest in a new love interest for _Wonder Woman_. I would totally love to see her with a long-lasting girl—"

"Yo Boom, are you coming to class?"

The separate pairs of different hues of blue stared down the hallway, finding Butch and Bubbles waiting for their friend. Robin glanced back at him, watching as his focus fixated on the blonde girl. Her eyes narrowed at this action, finding it similar to how Butch behaved around Buttercup.

She took a step back from the blond, realizing what it meant immediately.

 _Boomer was into Bubbles_.

Of course he was, Robin grumbled to herself. Bubbles was the sweetest person in Townsville. There was no way anyone could dislike her or even be neutral towards her. Hell, Bubbles was one of the few people who would attempt to speak to Robin on a regular basis.

It should not be surprising to her nor should she even care after having a brief conversation with him, but those facts did not help stop the truth from hurting her.

Boomer glanced back to her while making his way to his friends. "I'll see you around, Robin."

Robin gave him a meek smile in response. A smile in which disappeared the second he turned his back to her.

It was about the same time she faded back into the background of the hallways of her high school, no longer holding any more importance to engross someone's attention again.

* * *

 _June 7th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _2 years ago..._

It was her first day working at White Kitty's. Needing a summer job to help finance her ever-growing book collection, Robin was pleasantly surprised to find out the pet store was hiring. She has held a love for animals since a young age but could not have a pet due to the long list of allergies her father has. Getting the job at White Kitty's was killing two birds with one stone for her.

In what she thought would be an excellent solution for her, turned out to not be so grand.

As a tradition, newly hired staff at White Kitty's were in charge of cleaning kennels for waste. Within any hour, Robin had already re-cleaned five crates and was sure she smelt like it. Not to mention, the owner, Gustavo, was incredibly odd. He spent most of the day talking to an elder cockatoo, named Pearl, in his office.

Furthermore, Robin was not sure on how she was even going to get paid when a single customer had not walked through the doors all day.

By the time her shift came to an end, it was no surprise the thought of quitting on her first day was a frequent idea of her's. She lingered by Gustavo's office, practicing a speech to give him for why she was quitting. Her blue eyes focused on the pure white feathers on Pearl's body.

"Hey, Robin."

Robin felt her chest tighten up. Eyes widened to the fullest capacity. Her cheeks raised in heat. She glanced back, finding Boomer beside her. His ocean blue eyes boundless as she remembered. They were waters she would love to chart and navigate.

As unbelievable as it may sound, Robin had developed feelings for the blond. His brief moment of kindness towards her, had long-lasting effects on her. It was easy for her to foolish fall for him due to her infrequent interactions with anyone else—especially those of the male population.

In her mind, she craved for Boomer to be _it._ The love interest in her story. He was the boy she shared a, somewhat, meet-cute with, and now was hopefully on the path to something much more.

All of the romance novels she has read over the years engrossed her with the want and need to experience such emotions detailed in them. Emotions she pictured sharing with Boomer.

"Oh, um. Hi, Boomer," she greeted nervously, fiddling with a strand of her chestnut brown hair.

His eyebrow arched slightly as he stared down at her—he had about five inches on her. "You work here now?"

"Well, I…" Robin glanced over to Gustavo again. He was feeding Pearl a piece of a cracker. Before she knew it, Robin was nodding along to confirm his question. Thoughts of quitting no longer existed in her mind. " _Yup_. I started today, actually."

"Really? That's awesome."

"It is?" She asked. Robin mentally cringed at how stupid she felt the question was afterward.

"Yeah. We've been understaffed for months now." She watched as Boomer scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile spread across his lips. "And it also means I don't have to clean up shit anymore. So…"

Robin placed her hands on her hips, furrowing her eyebrows, "Oh? That's why you're happy I got hired?"

"Can you blame me?"

"No," she sighed dejectedly, rolling her eyes. "After today, I totally understand."

Boomer let out a small chuckle as he moved closer to Robin. His eyes focused in her direction. Robin felt her knees buckle, her body became paralyzed by the lack of space between them.

"So um…" Boomer pursed his lips for a moment in thought. "I'm sorry but could you move over? I need to clock in…"

Robin blinked at him as a response, escaping the daze she was under. The false idea of this being one of those unexpected romantic moments she read about and craved for. She glanced over her shoulder, finding the time clock right behind her.

She moved out of his way immediately, feeling the embarrassment and the redness of her face that came with it. Without saying anything more, Robin left the shop before Boomer could notice the state she was in.

Her mind ridiculed her for getting swept up in such a fruitless moment but Robin did not want to hear it. Instead, she tried to focus on the good of the situation as she started her car.

To focus on the sudden realization that Boomer was her co-worker. That she would be seeing more of him now and perhaps would be sharing shifts with him. The idea of getting to know him more, excited her out of embarrassment.

To finally have the chance to connect with him like she fantasized of doing so.

* * *

 _October 31st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 years ago…_

Punch bowls were the usual safe zone for her during parties. Too far away from the dance floor to feel pressured to join in, it provided a solid excuse as to why she did not want to drink any alcohol, and was the general spot to overheard the best bits of conversations.

Robin took a sip of the artificially-dyed bright green punch in her hand, noting the taste of pineapple and kiwi on her tongue, as she observed the party-goers around her.

Princess' theme this year was _Disney_ fairy tales. Her house was transformed into a scene straight out of a _Grimm Brothers_ ' story. The mansion appeared as if they were in a cottage in the woods; green mossy decor and fairy lights stringing along to add to the atmosphere. Gingerbread cookies dressed like the _Gingerbread Man_ , tea sandwiches, and biscuits covered in grey stuff—the dessert was a nod to _Beauty and the Beast_ —lined the table with the punch in a elegant and whimsical spread.

Robin felt she had been transported into a storybook—well, except for the raunchy actions transpiring between her classmates on the dance floor in front of her and the explicitly-laced rap song pounding out of the sound system.

She sighed begrudging, feeling the development of a headache coming soon. Robin would go home by now but she was awfully proud of her costume and wanted at least three compliments before leaving.

So far, no one has noticed her.

It shocked her slightly. She was wearing an authentic, homemade yellow ball gown, minus a hoop skirt, matching Belle from _Beauty and the Beast_ —her favorite fairy tale character since they shared an extensive love for literature. Robin swore it would be hard for anyone to not notice her. Furthermore, Belle, from her research, was one of the most popular princesses.

Yet, here she was, standing alone by the punch bowl without a single glance made her way.

She watched the party go on around her, spotting the punks in a corner, laughing about something between them.

Brat was dressed in a knee-length, form-fitting salmon-colored satin nightgown. A matching sleeping mask shaped like a crown, stating _Beauty Sleep_ in bedazzled turquoise rhinestones, was wore on her head like a headband. A pair of turquoise slippers adorned her feet. Her long golden blonde hair was styled into loose curls and her face was painted with the appropriate amount of blush to give her the appearance of her cheeks being a natural rosy hue.

Robin figured she must be a modern interpretation of _Sleeping Beauty_. A sexy interpretation she must add as she took notice to how low cut the nightgown Brat wore was.

From the long blonde braid interwoven with brightly colored flowers that reminded Robin of spring, the brunette instantly knew Brute was dressed as _Rapunzel_. The purple dress and pink eyeshadow simply added more to the costume.

Then there was Berserk who had chosen to wear a dark-colored wig in the style of a chin length bob for the evening. Her face dramatically transformed with a heavy smokey eyeshadow and black lipstick. A menacing look in which her gifted facial structure could only pull off, in Robin's opinion. She wore a short, royal blue dress with black fishnet stockings and tall red stiletto heels. A gold crown sat on her head, while she held onto a ruby encrusted clutch shaped like an apple.

Robin chuckled to herself, noting that Berserk would be the only one to chose to dress as a villain for the night. Her interpretation of the _Evil Queen_ was an interesting choice, and would not have worked with anyone else; but for Berserk, it was a flawless attempt.

The brunette kept her eye on them for a little, admiring their costumes from a far when Berserk seemed to have received a text message and excused herself from the two. With an eyebrow raised, Robin found herself to be intrigued by this. It was well-known by the entire school that Berserk only kept the company of the other punks and Princess. With the redhead carrying on her hosting duties, Robin could conclude Berserk was keeping a secret from her friends.

She quietly followed Berserk to the outdoor section of the party. Pastel paper lanterns flowed in the large Morbucks swimming pool, illuminating the patio while party-goers around her conversed with each other. A photo booth created to look like the mirror in _Snow White_ laid under a tree covered in string lights while a table similar to the one inside full of treats sat near it—except, this table was full of various types and flavors of boozes.

Robin noted how Berserk paused near the corner of the house in which led to the rose garden of Morbucks manor. The orange-haired girl began to tap her foot, obviously appearing to be waiting for someone. Robin merged herself within the crowd by the photo booth but kept a steady eye on Berserk, wanting to discover her secret.

In under two minutes, Robin was shook to her core when a brown leather vested and boot cladded Butch appeared. She watched as the plastic battle ax strapped to his back moved along as he spoke to Berserk. Robin wondered what he was supposed to be while never taking her eyes off of them.

They seemed to be having a normal, friendly conversation. Although, Robin did get a little startled by the bashful smile painted in an onyx hue as Berserk gazed at Butch with an unreadable intensity.

Robin took a small step back, her mind whirling.

 _Were they..._

No, no, no, Robin dismissed. Butch was still in love with Buttercup, the last time she checked. In fact, she suspected something had occurred between the two dark-haired individuals as Robin picked up on Buttercup's clear attempts to gain his attention lately.

Blue eyes continued to watch them, taking in the slight changes made to their body language. She noticed how Butch kept inching closer to Berserk. How her hot pink eyes would repeatedly look over his shoulder for any watchers. The way her hand slowly made its way up his arm, stroking against the moss green thermal wore under his vest. The muddled colors of brown and green seemed to give him a woodsy appearance.

 _The Huntsman_ , Robin exclaimed to herself. He was dressed as the _Huntsman_ from _Snow White_.

She was the _Evil Queen_ and he was the _Huntsman_. A subtle decision probably made by the two. It was a sneaky idea to get away with a couples costume, the brunette concluded; and from what she had witness, it was obvious there was something romantic between the two.

A forbidden romance, it seemed. One she would have never expected but Robin has always been a fan of the genre.

They continued to communicate until Butch parted away from her, heading for the gates of Morbucks manor. Berserk went back inside and came out again in a record time, as Robin figured she must have informed her friends of her decision to leave, before going in the same direction Butch had disappeared to.

Robin gasped silently to herself. Butch and Berserk were a plot twist she was not expecting nor did she expect anyone to have foreseen it either. Her mind went to his friend group and if they knew about his relations with the resident ice queen of Townsville.

Probably not if they were sneaking off to meet each other.

She glanced around the party, wondering if anyone else saw what she witnessed but everyone was too preoccupied with themselves.

Near the table of boozes, Robin spotted Buttercup—who wore a green tunic, brown tights, and hat adorned with a orange feather alongside a quiver of plastic toy arrows on her back; taking on the image of _Robin Hood_ —chatting with a dark-skinned _Prince Charming_.

With another gaze around, Robin found herself not interested in anyone and their lives. She headed back into the home of Princess Morbucks and to the expanding crowd of partiers.

Over the speakers, Princess spoke to her guests on a stage crafted for only tonight, informing them of the upcoming costume contest. Her red curls straightened for the night, almost covering the purple seashell shaped bra she wore with the extra length of her hair. The long, green sequined mermaid tail skirt she had on dazzled in the stage lighting, making her appear as the perfect _Little Mermaid_.

Knowing she would not have a single chance in the costume contest since it was mainly based on popularity and who had the least amount of clothing on, Robin made her way upstairs where a game room was set up.

The atmosphere in this area of the party was much calmer. No more scandalous song lyrics or overcrowded elbow pushing. Furthermore, no more having to see her classmates grind on each other and then pretend it did not happen come Monday morning.

She quickly spotted Bubbles talking to a few of her friends who Robin recognized from the art class they shared. A light blue tea length dress, blue headband in hair, and transparent shoes portrayed a simplistic version of _Cinderella_. The light of the room cascaded against the body glitter she seemed to have dusted her arms with.

Robin thought about joining them in discussion but decided they probably would not want her to interrupt them. She, instead, found a vacant seat in a bean bag chair, wishing she had brought a book with her.

She continued her entertainment of people watching when her ears grew attracted to the conversation behind her.

"Have you applied yet?"

"No, but I've taken a glance at plenty of applications. I'm pretty much focused on finishing my essays first and then I'll fill them out."

"I don't think you'll have to worry so much about impressing them. Once they see your test scores and grade point average, you'll be accepted without any questions."

"I'm not sure about that…"

"Oh, don't be so modest, Blossom. Whether you apply to MIT, Vanderbilt, or even fucking Harvard, you're going to be accepted in. Probably on full scholarship too."

Robin threw a look over her shoulder, watching as Blossom withdrew herself into a shell from her friend Julie's comment.

She was dressed as _Alice_ from Wonderland _,_ with a black bow replacing her signature red one. A baby blue dress matched with a white apron on top and stockings.

Robin found it ironic on how Blossom was Alice, considering her situation. She was traveling down a rabbit hole in which would lead to betrayal in her friends' eye if she did decide on a school outside of Townsville—the brunette was well-aware of their pact since Bubbles had briefly mentioned it one day when studying at Otto's. Surely the redhead was lost and could not figure out the correct decision for herself in the zany world of being a teenager about to embark on the journey of adulthood. Wonderland could be a dangerous place to land in, as Blossom seemed to be figuring out.

The conversation between Julie and Blossom ended soon after, with the redhead seeming flustered by the impending choice she would have to make. A settlement in which Robin could only predict would create ripples of trouble for Blossom and her friend group.

Robin perched up from the bean bag chair she sat in, reminding herself that she has seen everyone in Blossom's group tonight. Everyone except for Boomer.

The brunette went to her feet, making her way around the party in search for the blond male. If all his friends were scattered around, it could mean Boomer was alone, which meant Robin could have a moment with him again.

She could feel like a person again.

It took her awhile to find him as he was not anywhere near the crowded areas of the party. Instead, Boomer was hiding out on a balcony adjacent to the second floor bathroom. His shaggy blond hair caught in the dry wind of the final October night of the year. His costume was similar to Buttercup's; a tunic, tights and hat, except he was two shades of green and had a belt wrapped around his waist.

He was _Peter Pan_.

Robin wondered if there was any figurative meaning to his costume choice. If was a lost boy like Peter was. She watched him through the glass separating her from the balcony, unsure if she should disturb him or not. Her eyes read his body language, picking up on the white-knuckle grip he had on the railing. His back arched with the heavy breaths he was taking in. She was not sure if her vision was impaired or if she saw his legs shaking for a moment.

Her heart began to pick up in pace, distressed over her witnessing him on the verge of, what it seemed to be, a panic attack of some sorts. Robin knew she was not equipped to handle in him in this state. She was not what he needed to talk him down.

Robin turned on her heel, making a dash for the game room again, knowing exactly who could soothe Boomer.

Reaching out to her shoulder, Robin's hand became covered in an iridescent body glitter. Bubbles greeted her with a friendly smile. Light blue eyes took in her costume before meeting her eyes.

"Oh my! Robin, you look amazing!" Bubbles grinned excitedly with approval.

Robin did not match her expression, ignoring the compliment she had sought for at the beginning of the party as she spoke in a quick and hush tone to her blonde friend. "I think Boomer is having a panic attack out on the balcony."

Any amount of joy and laughter in which fulfilled Bubbles, had immediately disappeared, replaced with the sense of urgency to assist her close friend.

"Thank you for telling me," Bubbles whispered to her before running off in the direction Robin had came from, leaving Robin to fade back into irrelevance.

The most remarkable thing she had done at this party was helping Boomer. Something only Bubbles would remember.

Not one of her finest nights, she must admit, but perhaps this was the turning point in her story. The rising action in which would lead to better days.

Robin could only hope that was what her story was on the verge of.

* * *

 _October 18th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

It was official. After the holiday season, White Kitty's would be another relic to Townsville. Months of non-existent customers and the constant need of upkeep for the animals has resulted in the store's demise.

With the impending closure, Robin was in charge of figuring out the new homes for pets who have not found one yet. She has spent most of her days calling various pet stores or no kill shelters in the region. So far, in a matter of weeks, all of the animals would be taken under new supervision.

It was a bittersweet reality as Robin was more than willing to start a new chapter in her life—one that does not include cleaning up animal poop—but she would miss the animals in which she has bonded with.

Professionally, they were not allowed to name any of the animals due to not wanting to create confusion if one was renamed by any buyers. However, Robin had a few nicknames for some of her favorites.

There was _Pharaoh_ , a bengal cat who preferred to eat chicken but loathed any type of fish. _Gatsby_ , a golden retriever, named after her favorite novel. _Velveteen_ the rabbit who had the most menacing red eyes. A bearded dragon named _Reptar_ , in which was actually nicknamed by Boomer—she had overheard him say it once and it simply stayed with her.

One positive of the store closing, was the lowered amount of frequency Robin would have to be in contact with the blue-eyed blond. She had gotten over her one-sided and misguided crush almost a year ago. Something within her had to accept the fact he was more suited for someone else. Someone more like Bubbles.

That her life was not going to play out like a romance novel after all. And that she was delusional for thinking anything more would come out of a small bonding moment between her and Boomer.

Being around Boomer now was simply awkward and uncomfortable for her.

Which made the current shift she was participating in, more than less enjoyable as her and Boomer were stuck working alone together for another hour.

Thankfully, he had to man the cash register while she was able to move freely around the shop to feed the animals.

Opening Pharaoh's gate, Robin reached in, stroking her hand along his silky fur. He head-butted her arm, snuggling and purring against her skin. The brunette smiled, placing a bowl full of white chicken meat for him before closing the gate to his cage to allow Pharaoh to eat in peace.

"I'm going to miss this place," Boomer mumbled. His chin rested in the palm of his hand as he tossed his eyes around the store with a bored gaze.

Robin raised an eyebrow at him, caught off guard by his comment. She had her reasons for why they did not speak much during their shared shifts together but it was already a rare occasion for when Boomer did try speaking to her—even before when Robin stopped hoping for a conversation with him. The blond was more lost in the world inside of his head or sketching doodles in a notebook he brought with him on some days, to engage in conversation.

"Me too," she replied, avoiding further eye contact with him by preoccupying herself with feeding the other cats.

"Being here…" His eyes traced around the room once again. "It truly helped me with my anxiety during high school…"

"Oh," Robin breathed, looking up from the last cat cage. She attempted to sound surprised as she spoke to him. "You have anxiety?"

"Big time anxiety," he nodded. "Diagnosed with generalized and panic disorder. Luckily, I haven't had a full blown panic attack for about two years now."

"And the animals help?" She questioned, opening Gatsby's cage and letting the puppy walk around freely as they spoke. Robin took a seat on the ground, petting Gatsby whenever he walked by her.

"Oh yeah. When I was younger and my dads were together, they got me a therapy dog since my medication was not helping me that much, but that didn't last long since my dads broke up and one of them took the dog with him without saying a word," Boomer revealed. His eyes grew darker at the memory for a moment.

"That's seriously messed up."

"Tell me about it," he huffed out in frustration. "For a while, I was a jumbled mess—well, more of a mess than I usually am."

"How did you get better?"

"Comic books, actually," Boomer said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced away from Robin as Gatsby rubbed up against his legs. The blond smiled broadly at the dog, picking him up from the ground and taking him over to where Robin sat. Boomer silently sat across from her, freeing Gatsby from his hold and allowing the puppy to go back and forth between them. "It would take my mind off of things. Stop me from obsessively worrying about every aspect of my life."

"I can relate," Robin sighed.

"How so?"

Robin glanced up at the ceiling tile of the store, "Comic books were how I first fell in love with reading. I don't read them as much now as I did growing up, but they helped me deal with a lot as I found out reading is my own personal coping device with the reality of… Of how lonely I am," she whispered.

Her eyes widened from realizing how open she was being with Boomer. This went against what she told herself. To keep a distance away from him so she would not misjudge any interaction with him for something else again.

From getting the wrong idea it could mean something more.

But as Robin met Boomer's ocean blue eyes, she was reminded of why she held a certain amount of expectations towards the blond. When he did engage with her, she knew he was fully there. That he did enjoy talking to her. He cared for what she had to say, and may be one of the few people who ever truly have.

"Yeah. I've… I've noticed," Boomer muttered. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize."

"But I feel awful. I'm your co-worker. We've spent so much time together, yet this is the most we spoken to each other. And that's been my fault."

"I wouldn't say it's entirely your fault," she murmured as Gatsby licked her cheek. Robin ruffled the hair on the crown of his head, continuing, "I was intimidated by you."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows, "By me?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're Boomer Hardly. You've been one of the most popular kids in our age group since elementary school. You've always had a solid friend group and never needed to make yourself seen. Everyone already did…"

"I… I don't know about that…" he hesitated.

"You're also incredibly modest and kind."

Boomer shook his head, "No. That's not it…" He lifted his chin up, tilting it to a degree to the side. His ocean blue eyes stared directly into Robin's. "I've never felt important enough to be seen. My friends, yeah. They're all either charismatic, meant for something greater than all of this, or at least have an idea of what to do with their life. But me… I've always felt as if I was in the middle. There's nothing significant about me. I'm not destined to be anything important. I'm unremarkable compared to them. And the worst thing is, I'm… I'm stuck with myself."

"Boomer," Robin breathed, as the rest of her words got stuck in her throat.

There was not much she could think of that could be said back to him after such a confession. One that she could not have predicted despite having a close eye on him and his friends for years.

"It's fine," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, no. I'm… I'm glad that you did," she smiled gently.

Boomer gave her a single nod. A flash of a weak smile on his lips before he diverted his attention to Gatsby.

Robin took note to how his hands seemed to shake as he reached out for the puppy. How his shoulders were perched up from tension but became at ease when making contact with the golden fur of Gatsby's back.

She could feel the conversation between them beginning to slip away. Robin should let it go. Accept this as the last time she could be someone to him but Robin could not let it be.

"Do you know what you're going to do after all of this?"

"After what?"

Robin glanced around the store, "White Kitty's closing."

"Oh," he remarked. His fingers combed through Gatsby's fur. Ocean blue eyes analyzed each thin strand at a time. "No. Not at all… I could look for a new job or enroll at the community college but…"

"It's not what you want to do?"

"Yeah…"

"Then what do you want to do?"

"It's stupid," he dismissed.

Robin arched an eyebrow, a soft smile tweaking at the corner of her mouth. "I'll be the judge of that."

Boomer glanced into her eyes, sighing. His shoulders slumped down as he removed his hand from Gatsby and used it to comb through his own long blond hair.

"Reading comic books helped me a lot with my anxiety but it also opened up my imagination. I wanted to escape to _Metropolis_ , _Asgard_ , or to the _Justice Friends_ ' apartment. So I began drawing my own comics that included me. Drawing helped calm me down but it also become a passion of mine."

Robin glanced over to the dark blue notebook that sat on the counter by the cash register, finally understanding the purpose of the book.

"You want to be a comic book artist," she realized, meeting his eyes once again.

"Yeah. I do," he said softly with not much conviction in his voice. "But I'm pretty sure that wouldn't happen."

"How come? If you're passionate, it doesn't seem so far-fetch to me."

"Because I'm not motivated enough to do anything about it. I mean, this is the first time I've told anyone about it and that's because I just feel like it will never be notable compared to what my friends are up to," Boomer confessed. "And if I was motivated, I would only doubt my abilities like usual. I rather not start having serious panic attacks again because of a risky idea like that… Besides, there's too much pressure on me right now to even attempt to get in the right head space for anything."

Robin furrowed her eyebrows, "What's pressuring you?"

"I think you know already."

"No, I don't.

"Come on, Robin," he pressed. "You were there."

"Boomer, I'm not sure—"

"The night at the lake. All of the mysterious things happening," he answered for her. His gaze grew intense. "Haven't you noticed?"

"No. I haven't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I am," she nodded cautiously. Her eyes narrowed at him and his pestering questions.

"Robin," Boomer said gently. "You know you can trust me…"

The brunette blinked at him. Her head nodded slowly, realizing what this truly was.

Boomer was never truly interested in having a genuine conversation. He was not opening up to her for the hell of it. No, he was attempting to forge a connection in order to get information.

He was trying to use her. The entire time, he had an ulterior motive and Robin almost fell for it. For all she knew, everything he spoke about was fabricated to gain her trust in a more rapid fashion. It was a chance to manipulate her with sympathy.

There was no way she could trust him now.

There was no way she would tell him anything.

She quickly stood up from the ground, heading for the back office.

"Robin? Robin?" She heard him repeat desperately. The brunette ignored him as she punched out of work thirty minutes before her shift ended.

Without a word, Robin went straight for the door, not even giving Boomer a single glance.

"Robin, please hear me out…" he called out but it was too late. Robin had left and did not plan on turning around.

She thought they were…

That they could…

Robin shook her head, ignoring any of those ridiculous notions. She was correct to have withdrawn herself from them a long time ago but she was also foolish for allowing them to come back so quickly.

Maybe this was why she was meant to be alone. No one was ever going to be trustworthy. She was only good for being used.

* * *

 _October 19th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

She went to Otto's without using her invisibility but Robin might as well have been. None of the servers have approached her table since she had arrived—which was about fifteen minutes ago. If she did not bring a book with her to past the time and was not aware of how busy Otto's was at this time, Robin would have taken it more personal.

After finishing a chapter in her book, the brunette glanced around the diner. The waitresses were scrambling to serve food while the busboy cleared out tables as new customers waited to be seated. Most of the individuals in the diner were more around her parents age, not intriguing her interest.

However, her attention did get consumed by two waitresses carrying on a conversation behind her booth.

"Can you take table seven?" One asked as Robin recognized it to be Brute's voice. She had heard the green-eyed girl began working at the diner but had yet to witness it until today. "I'll take eleven, if it's too much."

"Yeah, I can," the other responded in a friendly tone. It was Bubbles, which made Robin grumble a little to herself. The blonde had become closely associated to Boomer in her mind after picking up on his crush on her. After the day before, Robin did not want to be around anyone or anything that reminded her of him and his dishonest ways. "May I ask why though?"

She heard Brute sigh, "Butch and Berserk are there."

"Oh."

Robin arched an eyebrow. Butch and Berserk were back together?

She glanced around the diner, quickly spotting Berserk's bright orange hair. The pair were engaged in what seemed to be a pleasant conversation as Berserk was smiling more than Robin has ever seen her do. Her fingers fiddled with his hand on top of the table. His stare on her was strikingly similar to the one Brick would give to Blossom; the only difference between them was, Butch was not afraid of expressing his emotions to the fullest while Brick seemed to be a little withdrawn on seeing just how much Blossom truly meant to him.

Robin was quietly surprised. Not only were they back together but they were being open about it. Given how Brute did not want to serve them and Bubbles' lacking response, the brunette knew it could not be a popular reunion among their friends. Especially if Butch's friend group had any idea about him and Buttercup's relationship—Robin did not see why the green-eyed male kept his relations so private.

"I'm sorry if that puts you in a tough spot. Just after everything that happened between Berserk and I—"

"No, I understand," Bubbles said, interrupting Brute. Robin was unhappy by this as she was hoping Brute might spill some details about the friction between her and the orange-haired girl.

"Thanks, girl. You're best."

The two ended their conversation as Brute walked past Robin's table, heading for another one in the opposite side of the diner. Robin took note to her lack of change in hairstyle and how the waitress uniform of Otto's did not suit her usual aesthetic of clothing.

"Good morning, welcome to Otto's—Oh, Robin. It's good to see you," Bubbles greeted. A genuine grin spread across her lips at the sight of her old friend.

Robin smiled weakly at her, "Same to you."

"Sorry about the service. As you can see, we're kind of swamped."

"It's fine."

Bubbles raised an eyebrow, chewing down on her bottom lip. Her eyes detected Robin's tense body language. "Is everything alright?"

The brunette narrowed her eyes at the blonde, "Maybe your friend may know the answer to that question."

Bubbles blinked at her in question, "Which one?"

"The one I work with."

"What did Boomer do?"

"He used me. Tried to fake a moment with me in order to get information for, _god knows_ , what."

Bubbles took in a sharp inhale, nodding once. "I see."

"I never expected him to be someone to do such a thing…" Robin mumbled, feeling embarrassed for having any expectations towards someone she barely knew. Then again, perhaps the whole reason expectations were made because she could conjure up her own version of Boomer from the lack of knowledge she had about him.

She could make him into whatever she wanted in her mind. A distant character who existed in her wild imagination.

But this was reality, and as disheartening as it was for her, Boomer did not care for her like the way she had once foolishly cared for him.

"Because that's not Boomer," Bubble said quietly. "He was just… he was following orders."

Robin furrowed her eyebrows at the blonde. " _Orders_?"

Bubbles sighed, slumping her shoulders. "For awhile now, we've been trying to figure what happened at the lake. One of the objectives we had, was figuring out your side of the story and Boomer was in charge of doing so. We also gave him the misguided advice of him trying to connect with you so you could trust him more. Boomer did not want to participate in the idea— _trust me,_ he did not _._ But, you know, when Buttercup is pressuring you to do something, there nothing you can really do about it."

"Uh huh," Robin nodded bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Robin," the blonde whispered. "And I'm sure Boomer feels the same way… we all just got carried away with what is happening."

The brunette tilted her chin, disregarding her hurt feelings for the moment.

"And what is it that is happening?"

Bubbles arched her eyebrow, shaking her head. "I can't say. At least, not here. But, um… If you're willing, I can arrange for an explanation with the others tomorrow outside of town."

"Oh. I'm more than willingly," she grinned mischievously.

* * *

 _August 23rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _2 months ago…_

Her head had been fuzzy all day during work. From the strange knowledge she might have died the night before and the discovery of the ability to turn invisible, Robin could not wrap her mind around anything. Since White Kitty's lack of any clientele, she spent most of her closing shift wondering about what happened. Various plot threads she had read about in the _Justice Friends'_ stories or from the brief science-fiction kick she was in during the tenth grade flew through her head, endlessly trying to put the pieces together.

She knew she could not be the only one. The others who were at the lake must have abilities too. Perhaps they could become invisible too.

Robin also knew whatever happened to them, was no mistake.

There was a reason they all were there that night. Like all heroes who got 'powers' by chance or had a certain event in which decided the fate of their life of crime fighting, they were all supposed to be there yesterday night for a reason. Robin just was not sure what the reason was.

She wished it was clear though. A clear motive to understand such as _Bruce Wayne_ watching his parents being murdered or the sense of duty _Captain America_ withheld.

Mystery was one of her less favorite genre of literature. Her inability of not having the answer right away often frustrated her. The red herrings and needless chasing around for the answer when it was pretty easy to figure out in hindsight. It was all bothersome to her.

Now Robin was living out a mystery and she was not entirely pleased to be apart of it.

She groaned at the thought as she shut off the lights for White Kitty's. After feeding and cleaning the cages of the animals, Robin stayed after work way longer than usual.

Normally, there would be another employee working with her but Boomer just so happened to call out for the day. Early symptoms of a flu, he had stated.

Funny how she saw him with Bubbles and Blossom at Otto's earlier in the morning. The three huddled together in a hush conversation. Suspicious glances towards those around them, the striking fear of being overheard easily read by Robin.

It was simply a sign of her being right. The others were affected.

Robin locked the door for the store from the outside, wondering if she should talk to Boomer about it the next time they were scheduled to work together.

She decided she would despite her apprehensions of being around him since getting over her crush. When beeping her car to unlock, Robin noticed a figure from the corner of her eye, glancing over to the abandoned candy factory in which sat across from her work.

It was difficult to make out due to the lack of lighting other than the two streetlights by the weathered brick walls of the factory but Robin caught a glimpse of a hue of red.

A red hat, to be exact.

The only person Robin could recall with such an accessory was Brick Jojo.

Her mind flashed back to the night before. The subtle flirtatious exchange she witnessed between him and Blossom. Robin did not know much about the man but she knew Blossom. From the years of watching her from afar and the off occasions when she joined Robin and Bubbles when they hung out, the brunette felt she had a good understanding on who Blossom was and what was typical behavior for her.

In fact, she knew the redhead has never expressed interest in anyone beforehand. Too busy with school, trying to appease her mother's unrelenting demands for her future, and all of her extracurricular activities, Blossom had not spent a second focused on the male population during their years of schooling despite the latter drooling at her feet on a daily basis. Robin has not even seen Blossom speak to another male independently except for Boomer and Butch—in which, the redhead saw and constantly stated the two males were like brothers to her due to the close nature of their friendships.

This rarity made Robin hypothesized Brick must be something special to have captured Blossom's attention. A man who can match the honorable and gracious characteristics of Blossom Bellum.

Robin arched her eyebrow at the idea, noting how if Brick was supposed to be saintlike, then what business did he have going to the abandoned candy factory? Especially at this time of night.

The abandoned candy factory that she _knew_ was the home base for the Gangreen Gang's illegal activity.

She crouched down along the side of her car, hoping Brick would not notice her as she would peep up her head to watch for him to exit the factory.

But he did not leave.

Instead, Robin watched as the emergence of embers engulfed the air. Smoke brewed out of the broken glass of the factory windows. Bright roaring flames soon escaped, raging on to char every inch of the run down building. The heat of the air intensified around her. Sweat beating down her forehead as she quickly got in her car and drove away from the scene, not even wondering about how Brick could have made it out of the factory with the fire flourishing around him.

Brick caused this destruction.

She had witnessed an act of arson. A crime, in fact.

Her mind went to Blossom again. The poor girl did not know the true nature of Brick, apparently.

Blossom did not know Brick was a pyromaniac.

A little match he lit against gasoline had caused a historic site in their town to go up in flames so easily.

Robin furrowed her eyebrows before gasping, realizing Brick did not have any gasoline containers with him in which could have caused such wreckage in a matter of seconds. There was no plausible ways he could have started the fire. Except if…

He must have some sort of pyro-associated abilities. _Human Torch_ -like powers, perhaps?

She knew there was no other way to explain it. Brick possessed fire abilities and he quickly used them to demolish a significant building in town. A place in which was used for presentation but also Gangreen Gang activity.

He was looking to start something, Robin concluded. To trigger an outcry from the town? Or maybe a retaliation from the Gangreen Gang?

There was no way this was a senseless act. Nothing truly was. She has known this from the plethora of hours spent reading fiction. There was a purpose for even the slightest bit of detail or action.

Robin found herself in another part of the mystery, wondering if this was connected to what happened to them or Brick has secretly been waiting to wreck Townsville. His newly acquired abilities he possessed were simply the right initiative for him to commit his plans.

She had to know the answer. She had to find out his secret, along with the hidden truths that Townsville has kept concealed.

* * *

 _October 20th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

The friendship group between Blossom, Boomer, Butch, Buttercup, and Bubbles has always intrigued Robin. The dynamic of the five friends who once seemed to have an unbreakable bond. A bond, in which, was tainted by Blossom's yearlong departure.

While the redhead had made an impressive stride in fixing the damage done to their collective friendship, Robin has been observing them long enough to know they have not all healed. If she was removed from them, they would all fall apart. The silent tension among them, added on by Brick's introduction to their close knit group, was easily readable and interesting to witness.

Robin did such as they formed a semi-circle around her while they stood in the desert on the outskirts of Townsville. The sun was setting around them, painting a vibrant, colorful sky. Colors in which Robin has never thought about, crafted before her eyes as she scanned each member of the group of six.

Bubbles hugged herself, seeming to shiver despite the longstanding heat in the air and the thick sweater she wore. She kept her light blue eyes focused on the foreground. Her body language giving off the appearance of being unsettled.

Butch stood next to her, his arms folded and uninterested. His eyes never dared to look in the direction of Buttercup or her continuous glares sent his way.

Blossom and Brick separated the former couple from standing next to each other. The pink-eyed girl was leaned over, speaking quietly to Brick. His head nodded along to whatever she had to say.

Buttercup held a similar standing as Butch, except she oozed of unresolved fury towards her former boyfriend. The hostility from her added towards the underlying friction in the group.

Then there was Boomer who stood awkwardly next to the agitated dark-haired girl. His eyes caught Robin's for a brief moment, expressing a hint of remorse to her.

The brunette had to glance away from him, not wanting to fall back into her previous obscure thoughts for him. To not entertain her one-sided crush anymore.

Boomer was not to be trusted. He would only acknowledge her existence when he needed to use her, Robin reminded herself.

As the sun slowly met the horizon, Blossom ended her private conversation with Brick, finally addressing Robin. All six pairs of eyes watched her, giving her the largest amount of attention Robin has received in the longest time.

"Robin, we each want to ask you a question," the redhead began, displaying a friendly smile. "If that is alright?"

Robin nodded, keeping a neutral expression. "You can ask me anything."

"Great."

"So then tell us what you know about your powers?" Bubbles wondered.

"Not much," she shrugged off. "I turn invisible. That seems to be it."

"No side effects?"

"If I'm invisible for too long, sometimes I get light-headed and feel nauseous."

"Have you spoken to anyone else about your powers?" Boomer questioned.

"Nope. You all would be the first to actually take interest in me," Robin joked, gaining no laughs from the six. Boomer, however, did crack a small smile. Perhaps it was out of pity, the brunette told herself.

"And you haven't been curious about what happened to you or the night at the lake?" Brick asked, not seeming impressed by her answers. "You haven't tried figuring things out?"

Robin narrowed her eyes at him for a brief moment before reverting back to a expressionless state.

"Of course I have, but I was also terrified by whatever might have caused it. There was no way I was going to solve an entire mystery by myself. I'm not _Nancy Drew_."

"Uh huh," the redhead male remarked skeptically.

"So you know about Him?" Butch inquired bluntly.

Robin furrowed her eyebrows together, "Who? Which him?"

Butch exchanged a look with Blossom and Brick before shaking his head at her question. "It doesn't matter, Robin."

"I think it does matter," Buttercup grumbled abruptly. Her stare grew harsher on Butch. "She should know about what is out there."

"We agreed on keeping it at a need to know basis, and I am pretty sure Him is not essential information at the moment for her," Butch countered.

"Right. Because you get to make decisions for all of us now," the green-eyed girl argued bitterly. Her fists were balled up tightly.

Butch had finally glanced over to Buttercup. His outrage burned from the wicked stare he locked onto her. The ground underneath them began to tremor. The speed of the seismic active gradually rising, making it hard for the group to remain still.

Bubbles, Robin, and Boomer fell to their knees, bracing themselves for whatever danger they were going to be apart of. Buttercup kept catching her footing, not daring to fall down as it would mean Butch would have won.

Their green eyes stared each other down, dueling in silence. Butch, who seemed to not be affected by the movement of the ground, clenched and unclenched his fist. His fingers fanning into his palm and outward in a rhythmic fashion. The activity of the seismic waves picked up more violently.

"Butch, stand down!" Blossom ordered.

The redhead clutched onto Brick's arm as he held onto her protectively, adjusting his footing meticulous like Buttercup, keeping the two redhead's upright. Interestingly, Brick was not focused on the ground but more so on Butch's hand movement and seemingly effortless control of the earth beneath them. His eyebrows furrowed together in deep thought.

"You need to get over yourself, Buttercup," Butch growled, unable to hear Blossom's plead as his focus was blindly directed towards Buttercup and the bubbling resentment they had for each other. His eyes no longer seemed to be an emerald shade of green. They seemed to have been blackened by his actions. The ground crackled as small fractures were made apparent underneath them. "I did what I had to do."

"Yeah, which was getting the opportunity to fuck that little tramp of your's whenever you wanted without consequences. That's the only reason," she seethed. "But I guess you prefer fucking the person who is going to fuck you over eventually."

"Heh," he chuckled darkly. A large rift of earth opened between them, wide enough to engulf one of them into the unknown abyss of the inside of the Earth. The sand of the desert ground began to swirl around them, whipping around them in a circle, forming a funnel to encase the seven. "I'm sorry to inform you but you're incredibly incorrect."

"I fucking hate you—"

"Butch, you need to stop!" Blossom exclaimed once again, attempting to reach out to the tall male. "You're going to kill us!"

"I—What?" His eyes snapped over to Blossom, becoming aware of how hazardous the environment around them had become. How he caused it. He clenched his hands, taking in a deep breath, and released his fists. With his action, the seismic activity of the earth came to a halt. The sand paused midair before falling down to the ground where it belonged. Some of the fallout caused them to cough a little as the sand got caught in their throats. Butch took in another deep breath. His face expressing just how petrified he was by his actions. "Sorry. I… I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Boomer eased despite his cautious nature as he stood from the ground. Bubbles and Robin did not agree with the blond's statement as they both gazed at Butch with a hint of fear.

Robin flickered her eyes to Blossom, who had pulled Buttercup away to have a private sidebar from the group. The dark-haired girl did not seem pleased by what Blossom had to say but reluctantly nodded to whatever it was.

If it was not for Blossom, all of them could have been victims to the high magnitude earthquake Butch was creating. That or engulfed in a sandstorm.

She was the glue of the group, Robin noted, furthering her notion of how they would fall apart without the redhead. Butch's outburst happened to be the obvious indicator to the truth about the six. That they were not as strong, balanced, or well-organized as they would want to be.

One more false step, and they could bring out the worst in each other.

"Where did you learn that?" Brick questioned suspiciously towards Butch, gaining Robin's attention.

It actually gained everyone's, as Blossom and Buttercup paused to glanced over to Butch.

"I, um… I don't know," he shrugged off. "I was provoked." Buttercup scoffed at his reasoning. "Too many emotions in my system must have caused my powers to go haywire."

Brick narrowed his eyebrows, not seeming to believe Butch but had to drop whatever hunch he had towards the topic due to the other watchful eyes inviting themselves into the conversation.

Mainly, one watchful pair of eyes.

His ruby-colored stare darted over to Robin, picking up on her intrigued nature. His gaze sent chills down her spine. This was not the same look he would give to Blossom. Her previous thoughts about the hue of red were proven to be accurate with a single glance from him into her own eyes.

He may not outright say it but Robin got the message clearly. Brick did not trust her.

"Alright…"

"I think we should wrap this up," Blossom advised without any objections. Her rose-colored eyes settled onto Robin as she walked over to her. The redhead had to leap over one of the fractures Butch had created on her way towards the brunette. "My question for you is, can I touch your arm for a moment?"

Robin raised an eyebrow out of confusion. "I, um… I guess…"

She held out her forearm for Blossom to touch, allowing the redhead's petite hands to brush up against her skin. The alert-fullness in her eyes fled away from touching Robin.

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville Arizona_

 _Unknown Time..._

Robin glanced down at her watch, tapping her foot impatiently against the pebbles of the lake's beach. She glanced back into the pine forest, looking for a hint of any other activity.

"Come on… come on…" she whispered to herself.

She perked up when the sound of heavy panting became noticeable to her. Her blue eyes spotted strands of orange swishing in the distance, running towards her.

Robin extended her hand, brushing her touch against Blossom's milky white skin. She extended her powers, making the redhead become invisible once again.

"How did it go?"

"I got nothing…" she huffed out. Her hands were placed on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. "I only saw Butch and Berserk, and they were… I think I just watched them get back together, which has me… _Confused_? And for some reason I lost focus. Things became hazy for a moment. One minute, they were climbing onto a table together, the next, I was blinded?"

" _Blinded_?" The brunette repeated with an eyebrow raised.

Blossom nodded slowly, "Yeah… like it was as if a massive bright light hit me and left me stunned for a few minutes. After I regained consciousness, the two were not there anymore."

"Him must have done something," Robin theorized.

"I thought Him was unable to track your abilities."

"Yes but he might have been tipped off by you sneaking into their hideout."

"How could he?" Blossom asked, her eyes narrowed. "Other than us and Brick, no one knew we were doing this."

Robin kept her silence, letting Blossom's question hang in the air. She figured the redhead would come to an answer by herself.

Her rose-colored eyes widened. "You don't think…" she gasped, stopping herself from finishing her statement.

Robin shrugged her shoulders, "Brick did work for Him. Who's to say he ever stopped? He could be playing us this whole time."

"But—"

"Blossom." Robin perched her hand on Blossom's shoulder, getting the redhead's attention long enough to keep her from descending into denial about Brick's supposive betrayal. "He can't be trusted. He never was meant to be trusted. I'm sorry but you have to stay away from him."

The redhead remained mum. Her face crestfallen, unable to fully accept the logic of Robin's advice. The doubt inside her towards Brick furiously swirled in her mind, clouding any objective judgement she may have.

Robin pulled her into a hug, allowing Blossom to take comfort in her arms.

Because of this, the redhead was unable to notice the discrete smile tugging at the corners of Robin's mouth.

* * *

 _October 20th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Blossom blinked back into her consciousness. Her lips pursed softly together as she took a step back from Robin.

"That's all I needed," she said, attempting to keep a friendly tone but there was something else hidden within her remark. With the way her eyes watched Robin analytical when taking her place next to Brick, the brunette felt something was off.

"Last question," Buttercup announced brashly. Her eyes fixated on Robin's, intimidating the blue-eyed girl. "Why did you lie to Blossom about what happened at the lake?"

"I…" Robin inhaled sharply. "I was not sure who I could trust at the time. I mean, one minute I thought we were supposed to be dead and the next we have these weird powers? I thought I was the only one who was affected at the time. No offense to Blossom but you can't blame me for wanting to protect myself."

She glanced at the six nervously. Other than the two blondes, the rest seemed to not be too keen on her answer. Robin furrowed her eyebrows, narrowing her eyes at Buttercup.

"What? Do you not trust me?" Robin questioned with an added amount of outrage. Her blue eyes moved over to focus on Brick, seeming to delivered her inquiry to him more than anyone else.

 _He was a problem._

"I don't know you well enough to give you my trust," the green-eyed girl retorted.

"Yet you wanted to tell her about Him," Butch said under his breath, gaining a nudge from Blossom to his side as the redhead was not amused by his comment.

"What Buttercup is trying to say," Blossom chimed in, sending a disapproving glance at the dark-haired girl. "Is that we wanted to know where your head was at to gain a better understanding on the decisions you have made. In return, we hope this will bridge more trust between us."

Robin nodded slowly to the redhead's words, noting how she would be excellent at diplomacy. Blossom had a way with easing others and making ill intentions seem like a bouquet of roses.

She must have gotten it from her mother, Robin acknowledged.

"If that is true, then I am all for building trust between all of us," the brunette returned. She raised an eyebrow at them, "In fact, I could be useful to you, as I am able to be the eyes and ears of Townsville. So if you do need some information, I will be your gal."

"Great," Blossom replied while Butch was unknowingly perplexed by Robin's word choice. Something about it rubbed him the wrong way. "If you want to expand your knowledge on your powers or control your side effect, you are more than welcomed to train with us."

Robin put up her hands to signal no harm, "Thanks but I don't think that will be necessary. All I can do is turn invisible, nothing much to it. Unfortunately, that makes me pretty much useless and irrelevant for anything you might have planned but I guess that's how it will be," she shrugged off.

"You're not useless or irrelevant," Boomer said quietly, catching Robin's attention quite quickly. She smiled at him in return. Even if she was not happy with him, Robin could not deny that Boomer was too sweet for his own good.

"I suppose so," Blossom answered as she did not hear Boomer's comment; neither did the others around them.

Her rose-colored eyes watched Robin attentively for a moment. There was a fraction of her stare that was unreadable. She was holding back, biting her tongue, in order to remain polite.

It was not long afterward when the seven went their separate ways. On her ride home, Robin could not shake away the look Blossom gave her and the thoughts of what she was keeping to herself.

She wondered how long could Blossom withhold herself in a subdued manner. When would the redhead eventually crack from the pressure she was under. The group of six would surely be done for when Blossom could not take it anymore.

Robin felt it was coming soon. The rising action between the group was heading for the climax. One last nudge, and they would all be snapping at each other.

The brunette simply questioned what it would be that would have them done for...

* * *

"Hello," Robin answered. As soon as she entered her room to relax from the eventful day she had, her phone vibrated in her pocket, alerting her to an incoming call.

She took a seat at her desk, listening to other person on the line. Her head nodded along to their words despite no one being able to witness it. Blue eyes focused on a slip of paper on her desk. Her cursive handwriting noted important details from the previous day.

With a single touch, a brush of her fingertips, the paper vanished from her desk. She smiled halfheartedly at the result, leaning back into her chair. Her hand presented itself in front of her face as an expanding force of energy grew in the palm of hand. A thin-veiled ball of the surrounding invisible energy near her compacted together.

Robin had discovered weeks ago of her ability of not only being able to turn herself invisible but the power of making other objects disappear. That she could also manipulate any of the unseeable energy around her. She could conjure up balls of energy, like the one she had in her hand—in which she was juggling around as if it was a physical ball—create force fields, and produce bursts of invisible energy if needed for combat. Bursts, in which, could stun one's eyes for a few moments if hit by the energy—as she had to learn the hard way.

Using a large quantity of the energy did have it's disadvantages as it had the effect of making Robin nauseous for some time. She rarely tapped into the true forces of her powers unless she needed to do so. So far, Robin would generally use her abilities to secretly listen to the addictive gossip of Townsville and to entertain herself with a ball of energy.

As the other person paused to let her speak, Robin threw the ball up to the ceiling, letting the energy dissipate into a bright burst of white light from the contact of the solid surface.

She blinked away the small effects of staring at the brief light illuminated from the energy as she sat up in her chair, scooting closer to her desk. Her hand propped her chin up, her blue eyes watching herself in a nearby mirror as she spoke quietly to the other person on the line.

"I'm expecting Halloween to be _pretty_ exciting..."


	11. The Camouflage: Part Three

_September 16th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Five years ago…_

"Welcome to detention. For the next two hours, you will be expected to sit in absolute silence. There will be no usage of cellphones, gaming devices, or computers. You are expected to work on your school work or sit quietly. There is also no sleeping allowed. Do I make myself clear?" Ms. Froust, one of the administers at North Townsville High, said to the three female students who occupied the detention room for the day. Not one of them addressed her, staring off into various directions with uninterested expressions. Ms. Froust snorted to herself, heading for the door. "Very well then."

With the door shutting behind the administer, Brute sighed deeply. She was frustrated for getting herself in this mess. If she had arrived to school on time instead of coming an hour late due to the heavy maintenance of her hair, Brute would not have been giving detention for her repeated tardiness.

She would not have to waste an entire afternoon for a ridiculous mistake.

Getting into trouble, was not a regular occurrence for her. She was more about blending in, leaving less of a mark. The only thing that she would ever want to stand out about herself, was her hair.

She glanced around the room to her follow "troublemakers", surprised to see it was two girls she recognized from her Algebra two class.

One of them was a brunette Brute found to be particularly attractive. She was the type of girl who should be on the covers of magazines or walking runways in New York and Paris fashion week. With her facial structure, plump lips, and memorizing hot pink eyes, the girl was too gorgeous for her own good.

If Brute was courageous enough, she would have attempted to ask her out by now but she already knew she did not stand a chance. This was because Brute was sure the girl was hella straight based on rumors she had heard swirling around a week ago. Vicious words used behind her back, painting her out to be a boyfriend stealer and the easiest girl in their grade.

That and the fact Brute was not bold enough to confess her interest, were the reasons why she would quietly admire the girl's beauty instead of saying anything.

The other girl was a blonde. Brute also thought she was pretty, but she was not captivating in appearance like the brunette. The blonde was more like the girl next door. The typical northern European or southern belle standard of beauty. A more approachable face compared to the other girl.

They both seemed incredibly bored. The blonde was filing her nails. A pink bubble of chewing gum would escape from her lips from time to time, only to be bursted back into her mouth. Her jaw smacked loudly, echoing against the thin walls of the silent classroom. A pair of dusty cowboy boots were perched up on the desk in front of her.

The brunette was searching through her bag. Her hand pulling out a long cord in which revealed itself to be a pair of headphones. She connected them with her phone, sticking the earbuds into her ears. She had an obvious disregard to the rules laid out for them.

Brute wished she had her headphones. Or something to keep her mind off of the numbing boredom she felt. Anything sounded pleasant at the moment.

She folded her arms against the wooden surface of her desk, laying her head down. Perhaps she would take nap. If the brunette was breaking the rules, Brute figured she might as well do so too.

As she forced her eyes to close despite the bright fluorescent lights burning against her eyelids, telling her to open them again, Brute's ear perked up from a distinctive, familiar sound.

She peered across the room, finding the brunette bobbing her head to her music. The volume must have been turned to the highest level as Brute was able to hear it pretty clearly from across the room.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she recognized the song to be one of her personal favorites.

Under her breath, she sang along to the lyrics, beating her fingers lightly against her desk to match the drumbeat of the song.

On the opposite side of the room, Brute heard another voice singing along, finding the blonde enjoying the music too. She cocked an eyebrow at this, catching the eye of the other girl.

"You like _Alice Bag_?" Brute asked.

"Duh," the blonde replied. "That's like asking if I like chewing gum, which," She blew another bright pink bubble, smacking it back into her mouth. There was a precedent twang to her words. Brute assumed she must come from a different state other than Arizona. "I obviously love."

Brute nodded with a friendly smile, "I think you are the first person I have ever met that shared the same opinion as me about them."

The blonde rolled her gorgeous ocean blue eyes, "Let me guess, your parents absolutely hate them? Because my mom throws a fit every time she hears any of their songs."

"Nah. My pops encourages any of my interests. My friends though, they don't necessary get femme punk."

The blonde laughed lightly. "Yeah. I moved here a few years ago from Texas." Brute grinned to herself at the confirmation of her assumption being correct. "And while most would say we're pretty set in our ways there, I can't believe how dense some of y'all here are about music. It's like, if it isn't country or corny pop songs, y'all find it to be garbage."

"Right?" Brute exasperated, excited to find someone who understood how she felt.

"It shouldn't be a surprise." Hazel and blue eyes went to the brunette who sat in front of them. She leaned her chair back, dipping her head slightly to look at the two. Her dark hair dangling out of her face. The cord of her headphones were wrapped around her neck like a loose scarf. Brute was too consumed conversing with the blonde to notice the music had stopped playing. "The people in this town are simple-minded and uninspired."

Brute picked up on the heavy accent she had as she spoke. The origin of it, however, Brute was unable to determine.

"Tell me about it. I wish I could move back to Texas already," the blonde whined, her shoulders slumping at the thought.

"I would love to move back home too," the brunette mumbled under her breath before deciding to sit up straight. She turned her chair around, facing the two others. "I'm Berserk, by the way."

" _Berserk_?" The blonde repeated, her eyebrow raised. "Aren't you the girl who terrorized Mikayla Gilliam today at lunch?"

"I wouldn't say terrorized," Berserk replied evenly, showing no remorse. "I simply told her about some observations I had made about her character. It's not my fault she can't handle the truth," she shrugged.

"Is that the upperclassman girl who thinks she holier than thou despite her boyfriend being the biggest dog on campus?" Brute questioned.

"Yup."

Brute pursed her lips, impressed by Berserk's ballsiness. She may not know much about the Mikayla girl but from the groups she floated to and from, all had the same unequivocal fear of her. Something about her ability to ruin reputations in an instant, but Brute was not entirely sure.

"So that's why you're here tonight?"

"Unfortunately," she answered without a single ounce of emotion. Not one slight indication of frustration or annoyance like Brute would expect from someone in Berserk's type of situation. It was a little off putting. How much she lacked in caring about the trouble she was in.

Or how her words seemed to be withdrawn from any sense of emotion.

"Well that's a better reason than me," the blonde stated. "I somewhat threw a fit in the hallway when finding out I had been switched into a P.E. class."

Berserk blinked at her in response. Her elbow propped on the desk that sat behind her original, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. "Seriously? P.E. isn't that bad."

"But I would get all sweaty!" The blonde cried. "I do not look cute when I'm all sweaty."

"No one does," Brute pointed out, gaining a dry chuckle from Berserk.

"Look—um, what's your name?" Berserk asked.

"Brat."

Berserk furrowed her eyebrows, seeming to not truly believe Brat's name was _Brat_. Brute did not understand her bafflement when her name was Berserk. It was not any better, in Brute's opinion.

"Okay, Brat. If you really don't want to be in P.E., talk to Mr. Stephens in guidance. As gross as it is, he has a weakness when pretty girls ask him to do anything. As long as you flirt with him lightly, you will be out of the class by the end of the day."

"How do you know?"

The brunette grinned mischievously, displaying the first true amount of emotion Brute has witnessed from her. "It's how I got out of Culinary Art. I wasn't going to spend an entire year eating burnt sugar cookies and poorly-made pasta salad. Not to mention, all of the calories the teacher was going to force us to consume," she explained, gagging slightly at the thought. "I heard he doesn't even teach the class either. Some tall sophomore guy who works at the local bakery does for volunteer hours."

"But I heard that sophomore is _particularly_ cute," Brat pointed out, sighing with a boy-crazed daze in her eyes.

"And Culinary Art is one of the most sought after classes on campus," Brute acknowledged, taken back by Berserk's decision.

She shrugged her shoulders in response. "Oh well."

"I think I'm going to talk to Mr. Stephens tomorrow," Brat decided after a beat. "Thanks." Berserk did not reply to her gratitude, seeming to have ignored it all together. Brat did not mind, however. Instead her blue eyes focused on the other girl in the room. "So what is your name?"

"Brute."

The blonde nodded slowly, making a certain face allowing Brute to know that she was not quite fond of her name.

"Why are you here, Brute?"

Brute tugged on the loose coiled curl of her Afro as she spoke, "I may have spent too much time on my hair in the morning and came to school late everyday since we started."

Berserk let out a small laugh, "That's probably the most ridiculous reason for getting detention I've ever heard."

"I know, I know," Brute grinned. "I just can't let myself have a bad hair day. It's like one of my biggest fears."

"I understand. Although I don't need it because I'm obviously blessed in the looks department." Brute chuckled at the brunette's blatant vanity. "I always have to make sure my makeup is absolutely perfect in the morning. Sometimes I skip school all together because my eyeliner didn't come out right," the brunette revealed.

"I have to have my nails done or I'll have a meltdown," Brat followed, wanting to join in on their weird quirks about their appearance.

"I would not want to be around you when you break a nail," Berserk quipped. The other two laughed in response. A small smile tugged at the corner of brunette's lips as a result.

For the next hour they had left of detention, the three spent the time getting acquainted with each other. The conversation had diverted back to their music taste, discovering they all shared the same love for various punk acts. They also talked about their classes and lack of enthusiasm towards them. The teachers they were not fond of and the classmates they could already tell were going to get on their nerves.

Before any of them realized it, to lost in the ease of comfortability and openness between them, they had served their time. On the way out, Brute had thought the bonding moment between them was simply a one time deal. A memory she would carry over her high school years. Perhaps she would catch their eye in the hallway in the next three years, and they would share an acknowledging nod before going on with their lives.

But as they waited for their rides outside, Berserk had asked them if they wanted to attend a concert with her in Citiesville on the following Saturday. It was in a seedy bar with a lot of shady clientele, she explained, but the brunette swore they booked pretty good acts.

Without hesitation, Brute and Brat agreed, entertaining her further for more details to the plan.

It was not until Brute went home, taking up the comfort of her room, did she realize getting detention was not as bad as she thought.

For once, Brute felt she could have a pair of _real_ friends. Not just people she spoke to for the time being but individuals she saw herself creating a deep connection with.

Yeah. Getting detention was not a mistake at all, she concluded.

* * *

 _October 25th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"So by ten, you should be at the lake," Brute checked. Her green eyes scanned the detailed plans Blossom had written down on a notebook.

The two were sitting at Brick's dining table while the others were outside training. Since Blossom was unable to control her powers and Brute has forbid herself from using her own, they decided it was best to make themselves useful by going over final details for Halloween instead of watching the others.

The redhead nodded. "And you and Princess should have Berserk and Brat cornered in the game room upstairs."

Brute sighed, sinking into her chair. "I just hope they fall for the bait," she mumbled, unable to meet Blossom's eyes.

In order to get Berserk and Brat's attention, Princess was going to inform them of Brute wanting to have a chat to make peace amongst the trio. She was not comfortable with the idea yet, since it was built on false pretenses. Sure, Brute missed her friendship with the girls but she was still hurt by their decision to stay loyal to Him.

From their choice to turn their back on humanity as a whole.

Although, she was not nearly as upset with Brat as she was with Berserk, since she knew the blonde was simply following whatever Berserk ordered, Brute did question why Brat could not make up her own mind in regards to this very situation. The plot to destroy the world was not something an individual should blindly obey yet the blonde was doing such.

Then Berserk…

Berserk was a whole different story, in Brute's opinion. The thought of the orange-haired girl made Brute's blood boil. However, when it all would calm down, when the anger began to fade away, Brute was left with the shallow feelings of abandonment. The realization of a great friendship between the three was no longer the same nor could ever be again.

Brute would get on herself sometimes. The echo of regret from the decision of letting the two into her life. If she would have floated to different groups throughout high school, not making the mistake of becoming a trio with them, she would have never gotten close to them. She would have been safe from the heartbreak they have all caused to each other.

"Hey," Blossom said softly. Brute glanced up at her, "I know it's been hard dealing with what Berserk did, and I agree it was a horrible way to handle the situation, but I have a strong feeling she only did it to protect you."

The dark-haired girl furrowed her eyebrows. Berserk was protecting her? Well, if it was the truth, she had a funny way of showing it.

"Why would you think that?"

"I had a conversation with her one day about Butch. It was… it was a few days before he ended things with Buttercup," the redhead said lowly. Brute picked up on a sense of remorse in the air. Whatever was discussed between Blossom and Berserk, certainly gave the pink-eyed girl a guilty conscious. "And during that particularly conversation, I asked, if she loves him so much and he felt the same way, why didn't she want to be with him. Her answer was, it was better to keep Butch at a distance due to where her loyalties were. If she was willingly to do that for him, I wouldn't doubt it if she was doing the same for you, Brute. I can tell your friendship carries the same amount of weight for her… _and for you_."

Brute blinked at Blossom. Her mind whirled from the revelation. Berserk did have trouble outright saying how much someone meant to her. She was more about actions. Whether they were her own or the other person, actions were how she computed affections.

The idea of her protecting Brute, did not seem so far-fetch anymore. The great amount of distance put between them since the fracture in their friendship, made it even more clear to her of what was truly going on.

Despite this, Brute was still leary of Berserk. If the orange-haired girl was caring enough to make such a heavy-hearted decision, all for the promise Him made to her, then Berserk was too far gone in her opinion. The darkness has held her captive for too long.

She was not to be trusted. Not unless Berserk switched sides or helped defeat Him, would Brute be able to trust her again.

"Thank you, um… for telling me that," Brute muttered.

"Of course," she replied. Her hand reached out to comfort Brute. The simple brush against her dark skin, Blossom was under a trance, lost within her own mind.

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

Her eyes were hot with tears. There was a permit scratch stuck in the back of her throat, making it harder for her to speak. Her hands were shaking vigorously from the rapid emotions she was experiencing.

Grief and guilt were the most predominant feelings for her.

That _and_ the endless amount of loathing she held towards Berserk.

"You killed her!" Brute accused through her tears. "You killed her! You killed her! You killed her!" She kept repeating as Berserk sat on the sidewalk in front of her home. Her arms hugged her knees, curling herself into a ball as she wept through Brute's screaming.

"I know… I know… I know…" she would say quietly in between Brute's repetition.

"Are you happy, Berserk? Are you happy that you let this happen?"

Berserk wiped her right eye. A trail of black smudge from her mascara darkened her mocha skin.

"I'm fucking heartbroken, Brute," Berserk whispered. "I caused this and… there's nothing I can do to change it…"

"You're damn right," Brute grumbled. Her finger sharply pointing at her, "Brat is dead because of you, and you have to live with it. You killed our best friend, Berserk. You're a monster. An absolute monster."

Brute stared at her venomously, waiting for a disagreement. A chance for the orange-haired girl to explain herself.

Instead, she quietly murmured the same two words.

"... _I know_."

* * *

 _October 25th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom gasped quietly, coming back to the moment between her and Brute.

"That's twice now…" She mumbled under her breath. Her hands dived into the thick strands of her orange hair, clutching at their roots. Rose-colored eyes appeared to be frightful.

"Blossom, what's wrong?"

"My vision… I keep seeing that—"

Before she could finish, the back door to Brick's home opened, allowing Butch into the space. His forehead was moist from sweat; a few strands of his dark curls were sticking onto his skin. It was the same for the white tee-shirt he wore, clinging to his firm figure.

"Fuck, it's hot as balls out there," he claimed, going straight for the fridge in the kitchen. The upper half of his body was unable to be seen from the dining table as the fridge's door blocked the sight. "You two are lucky to be inside all day." The door to the fridge shut as Butch had a crisp bottle of water in hand. He twisted off the cap, making eye contact with Blossom. "By the way, your boyfriend wanted to talk to you about the Battle of Waterloo… Or was it Saratoga?" He thought for a moment before shrugging his shoulders in disregard. "Anyways, he needs you."

Brute furrowed her eyes in confusion, which Blossom caught on to as she rose from the table.

"He's studying for his GED at the moment. Whenever he has a break with training, he is studying."

"Or when he is not at work," Butch added, taking a large swig of the water, chugging down half of the bottle's content and wiping his lips afterward. "Or being all cute and cuddly with you."

"I suppose," Blossom smiled shyly. A hint of pink tinted her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. She eyed the door. "I'm going to go help him."

An awkward tension filled the air as Blossom left. Brute studied Butch, seeing he was doing the same from the corner of his eye.

Things between them were odd because of: one, his relationship with Berserk; two, their mutual accusations of mistrust from a few weeks ago; and three, a lack of relation prior to being hurled into this situation with each other. During their high school years, Brute had heard about how much of a good person Butch was. One of the few males who were not entirely a dick. Reliable and fiercely loyal, a bit dense and stubborn, but mostly, an overall grand guy. The golden boy, she heard various times from her former classmates. That or a few scoffs from envious males who remarked he was a golden retriever. Despite their jealousy, it was commonly known that Butch was one of the rare people that everyone could not dislike.

This was prevalent in his abilities to make Berserk be outright caring about another person. Something Brute should have caught onto when confronting Berserk about her secret boyfriend a long time ago. Her use of the word _golden_ was a subtle hint to him. One Brute did not connect to until a day after seeing Butch and Berserk together as a couple.

He was like a myth to her in high school. A bunch of hearsay and expectations.

However, as she has gotten to somewhat know him, Brute felt as if she was the only one who did not like him. He was too loud. Unobservant and annoyingly made too many references to pop culture for her taste. His personality would take over the room, robbing others of the chance to stand out. Furthermore, he was dumb to be in a relationship with Berserk, the girl they were plotting against.

From the way his friendly spirit fled the second Blossom left the room, it indicated for her to assume the feeling of dislike was mutual.

Brute narrowed her eyes at him, propping her elbow against the wooden surface of the dining table. Her chin was placed on the palm of her hand.

"So Butch…" she said hesitantly. He turned his head to her direction but his body was facing away from her as he leaned against the cabinets in the kitchen. His body language screamed out how much he did not want to join her in a conversation. How much he wanted to keep himself closed off from her. "I just want to know… were you the guy Berserk was with awhile back?"

"How long is awhile back?" He countered nonchalantly.

"Me and her were seniors."

"Oh." Butch stayed quiet for a beat before answering. "Yup. That was me."

"Mmmm…"

His eyebrow shot up, "Is that all?"

Brute pursed her lips. Her eyebrows lined together, eyes narrowed at him. A hand picked at a coiled curl by her ear. The bottom of one of her _Doc Martens_ tapped against the wood floors of Brick's home.

She let out a tight breath.

Her mind flashed back to the brief time she spent working with Him. Even though she did not like him, Brute did care about Butch's well-being.

"You should be careful," Brute advised.

A corner of Butch's mouth turned upward in a challenging grin. "And why should I do that?"

"When I worked for Him, I remember Berserk was ordered to harm you—or break you. It was one of those things," she confessed. "She may be with you, simply to carry out Him's task for her."

Butch blinked at her in response. A smile formulated on his face, but there was something off putting about it. The way the smile did not meet his eyes. Or how he seemed to mirror Him's sinister smile.

"Thanks, Brute," he said. His deep voice was chilling yet enthralling. The type to send shivers down one's spine but also kept them intrigued, hanging onto the edge to find out what else he had to say. "But I'm sure there is _nothing_ for me to worry about."

"Butch, I know she is your girlfriend but I wouldn't take this lightly."

"Oh. _I'm not_ ," he replied, taking a large sip of the rest of his water. His hand crushed the empty plastic bottle within his fist before throwing it way. He gave her a two finger salute as he left the kitchen, heading back outside, leaving Brute utterly perplexed by their interaction.

* * *

 _August 30th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Two months ago…_

Her hazel eyes fluttered open. Smoke surrounded her, wrapping her body tightly like a blanket. Her throat itched furiously from the thick haze, suffocating her airways.

Brute attempted to raise her head but her forehead throbbed too much from a terrible pain for her to move any of the limbs of her body. Water brimmed her eyes, her mind racing with fears of death.

In the distance, she was made aware of a wicked cackle. The grey smoke ceased to exist in a matter of seconds. A thin figure revealed themselves amongst the toxic cloud.

Their skin was a deep crimson. Their hands were replaced with claws. A menacing grin plastered onto their face.

They pinched at her shirt, lifting her up from the ground. Her body ached terribly from the motion.

Brute shut her eyes tightly, attempting to convince herself it was all a dream.

 _Well, more like a nightmare._

Her wish seemed to be heard as she opened her eyes. The figure was no longer visible. The world around her faded into a blackness as she jumped herself out of a heavy slumber.

She clutched her bedding as she rose. Her chest sunk in and out in a rapid manner. Green eyes scanned around her room, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

It was just a nightmare. Must be all the nerves she was experiencing after the weird incident at the lake. One where she and everyone who was there, should be dead.

Instead, Brat seemed to have otherworldly abilities and Berserk was starting to believe she did too.

It was all too strange for her.

A breath of relief escaped her lips as she snuggled back into her bed. She shut her eyes, trying to drift off into sleep again.

Her ears perked up at the sound of her closet doors slowly creaking open. Brute quickly sat up, finding the same figure at the foot of her bed. The same villainous grin painted on their face as they stared into every corner of her soul.

"This can't be real…" she murmured in fear. The crimson being leaned closer to her.

The fight-or-flight instinct within her, triggered her to slap the mysterious person in an act of defense. Her hand ran their body, weaving through them in a hazy transparent air. Brute arched her eyebrow, waving her hand back and forward through the figure.

It was as if their body was fog and she was simply playing with it. Her hand pushed away the colored air into different directions.

What was going on?

She closed her eyes again, wishing silently for the bizarre individual to disappear again. Through one eye, she peeked, finding the figure gone again.

However, Brute still felt their presence lingering around. Somewhere stuck in the back of her mind.

She shut her eyes again, thinking of the being. Her eyelids fluttered open, finding the same grin in front of her.

"Shit," she gasped.

She was causing this, Brute realized. Her nightmare conjured up some type of… _illusion_?

Brute was not sure.

However, she knew if this was true, Brute must have acquired this ability from being at the lake.

Her hazel eyes focused on the soul-eating eyes of the unfamiliar figure. Despite knowing they were not real, Brute still felt a pit of fear taking root within her.

If this was what her abilities were capable of doing, Brute was sure she did not want to share it with the world. Fear was not a emotion she wanted to command and from what she could tell, terror was what her power fed off of.

Before she spent the rest of night tossing and turning, unable to fall back to sleep, Brute promised to herself to never use her powers on anyone else. She may not be able to control them when she slept, but in any other instance, she would not tap into them willingly.

She would have to silently suffer through the twisted nightmares in her mind but at least Brute could live with the thought of not allowing anyone else to experience what she saw.

What else she could create with a single thought.

* * *

 _October 28th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Purple or black tablecloth?" Princess questioned. She and Brure were in one of the lounge areas of the redhead's home. Boxes of decorations and tables scattered around the room. In Princess' hands, she held up the two different fabrics in question.

Brute looked up from the box she was digging through, her eyes squinting in response.

"Purple," she answered.

Princess craned her neck, eyeing the tableclothes herself. "Are you sure? I was kind of into the black one."

Brute cocked her eyebrow in amusement, placing a hand on her hip. "Sounds to me like you already made up your mind, hun."

"Well, yeah, maybe," Princess remarked sheepishly. Her creamy skin was tinted a light pink, camouflaging the sprinkles of freckles on the bridge of her nose. "But I did want your opinion."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Your opinion is ridiculous important to me," she confessed with a soft smile. Her eyes trailed up and down the dark-haired girl bashfully. "Everything about you, _is_."

Brute made a subtle step to become closer to the redhead. Her hand took up the space in the croak of Princess' neck. She leaned forward, inches away from her girlfriend's lips.

"Miss Princess?"

Brute felt a gently push to her shoulder, making her take a step back, removing her hand from Princess. Her eyes questioned Princess as to why when one of her maids came into the room.

Princess ignored the lingering stare Brute was giving to her as she discussed her thoughts on how to clean up after the party was finished with the maid. Once the service staff was gone, Princess let out a tight breath.

"I'm sorry about that," she mumbled, running a hand through her thick curls. Her line of sight went anywhere but Brute. "I can't let anyone see me with you _like that_ —at least, not right now."

"Oh." Brute eased on her offense, immediately picking up as to why Princess did not allow them to kiss. "No one knows, huh?"

The redhead shook her head, "Only Buttercup and you know for sure about my sexuality. And I can't let anyone else know because of Daddy. He…" She paused for moment, swallowing the hard lump of truth in her throat. "He would not be pleased to find out about the truth. Neither will be his board and backers. So none of the staff can see us doing stuff _like that_ or they'll tell Daddy."

Brute took a moment to herself to process what Princess was saying. A flopping sensation intensified in her stomach.

"Are you sure I am what you want?" She asked quietly.

Princess snapped her eyes to Brute, petrified by the thought she was implying. "I like you, Brute. So, so, so much. Of course, I want to be with you."

Brute nodded solemnly, hugging herself. "I know but… I don't want you to risk everything because of me. I can understand dating a girl isn't exactly what a conservative man like your father would want, but adding on the fact I'm black and come from a working class background? I can't see that having any positive outcomes. He would disown you in a heartbeat."

"You're right," the redhead confessed after a beat. "And maybe getting disowned by him doesn't sound so bad to me. I just," she took in a deep breath before continuing. "I don't want to say anything at the moment. Not when our lives are a chaotic mess with all this Him stuff."

"I understand," Brute replied genuinely.

Princess rested her hand on Brute's shoulder. Her dark eyes captivated by the hazel ones her girlfriend possessed. "I promise. After all of this is over, you will not be a secret. Even if it means Daddy no longer wants anything to do with me. I rather be with you."

Brute could not help the smile spreading across her lips despite the heavy amount of doubt she held within herself. Did she truly believe Princess would be able to cut herself off from her dad? She was not sure. The redhead has grown tremendously over the past year or so. Growth in which had made Brute easily fall even more for Princess than she originally planned for.

It was hard for her trust to anyone after what transpired between her and the punks. However, Brute knew she could not keep a doubtful mind if she was to continue her relationship with Princess. Allowing fears to take control of her, would only create distrust and unnecessary complications.

"Me too."

* * *

 _October 31st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Today was the day.

The day in which would change the course of the conflict with Him.

Brute's stomach has been in knots all day despite knowing she would not be apart of the major aspects of the night. In a way, she has grown fond of the little group formed during the circumstances they were under—all except for Butch. Since she has, Brute was fearful for their safety. Brute still believed going through with plan was ill advised but it was too late to rise anymore concerns.

Instead, Brute had to put on a brave face and simply hoped they would complete their task without any problems arising.

Before they did go to the lake, each individual in the plan was given a position at Princess' Halloween party to be in until given their cue to leave. While Princess was busy with her hosting duties, Brute was in charge of making sure everyone was in their place to give the redhead the go ahead on moving into the next phase of their plan.

Her eyes scanned throughout the crowd of the party, deciding on who she should check up on first.

Princess luckily did not have much difficulty with finding decorations on such a short notice like she had originally thought. Her home appeared to be a haunted forest, with dark, naked trees standing throughout her home. The strobe lighting flickered shades of orange, white, and purple; cascading images of pumpkins, ghosts, and witches. The dance floor was checkered with orange and black, as Princess played a more Halloween-based playlist for the year— _Monster Mash_ currently played over the speakers in her home. The snack table was dressed with cupcakes decorated to resemble pumpkins, cookies shaped like black cats and ghosts, and a punch bowl dyed a bright orange. Outside, fog machines were on full blast to add a level of spookiness as orange and black lanterns were strung overhead.

She grinned to herself, noticing the variety of costumes for the party. Brute surely knew Princess would happy to see the diversity of creativity.

For Brute, she had decided to go as a magician. She wore an ivory, sweetheart neckline corset paired with a black tailcoat, an emerald bow tie, short ivory gloves, black shorts and fishnets, and heels matching the hue of her bow tie. Brute had pinned down her Afro into a low bun as a top hat sat on the crown of her head—the black hat had a satin emerald band around it. In her hand, she held onto a plastic magician's stick. Her eyelids were sparkling with a heavy amount of emerald eyeshadow as her lips were coated with a shiny, nude lip gloss.

In her decision, Brute went with Blossom and Brick as they were the closest to her at the moment, standing by the snack table—their checkpoint.

"How are you guys?"

"We're good," Blossom answered for them, keeping her response short in case Him was watching over them.

Or those around them, as Brute caught a glimpse of Robin, who stood on the opposite end of the table. Her light blue eyes attempted to look off in the distance, but Brute took note to the small peeks she took in their direction.

The brunette wore a long black dress with a white collared shirt underneath. A crisp pilgrim hat adorned her head instead of her long hair being stylized. A large scarlet _A_ was stitched in the middle of her chest, sticking out like a sore thumb in the dreary fabric of her dress.

Brute believed Robin's costume originated from a piece of literature they read in the tenth grade. One, in which, Brute neglected to read due to a lack of interest.

The dark-haired girl focused her attention back to the couple in front of her, pushing away Robin's subtle stares out of her mind.

For the six who were going to the lake later in the night, it was agreed upon for them to stick to a generally black attire for covert reasons. Sticking with this plan, Blossom's costume consisted of a three-quarter sleeve turtleneck, a pair of cropped trousers, and ballet flats. Her orange hair, which Brute found to be Blossom's best physical feature, was held tightly at the crown of her head into a twisted bun. The fringed bangs Brute had cut for her a few weeks ago, had grown out and were swept to the side. She did not do much with makeup, simply making her eyebrows appear thicker than usual.

Brute did have to say there was something incredibly classic about her look, even if she could not figure out who Blossom was suppose to be.

"What about the others?" Brick asked under his breath before taking a sip from the cup in his hand.

Brute glanced around the area, "I haven't seen them but I'm going to check in on them now."

Brick nodded. Brute was not sure as to who he was suppose to be either. His costume was awfully simple too. The sleeves of his plain white tee-shirt were rolled in a lacking manner; which was paired with tight black jeans rolled at the ankles and white _Converses_. His hair was not covered by his usual red hat, making it the first time Brute has seen him without his favorite accessory. Scarlet locks were tousled with a good amount of pomade, from what Brute could tell, styling his hair into a quintessential pompadour.

"Um. I know this is not urgent. But who are you suppose to be?"

His eyes glanced over to Blossom for second before answering, "James Dean."

"He's not one for dressing up," Blossom inputted with a soft smile, taking up the small space that separated them. Her head leaned over to rest against the end of his shoulder. Brute took notice to Brick subtly entwining his hand with Blossom's. A crooked grin on his face as he stared down at her in awe. Brute had picked up on how he often would give her that look, seemingly captivated by every little thing the redhead girl could do or say. "So I tried finding one that did not require much effort. He also just so happens to be as handsome of a rebel as James was," she remarked fondly, her cheeks brushed with a rosy shade of color.

"Golden age of Hollywood, I see," Brute noted. Her eyes ran across Blossom's costume again. "And I'm sure you wanted to match a bit, so in that sense, you must be…" Her eyes halted at Blossom's eyebrows, noting how they seemed familiar in a iconic way. "Audrey Hepburn?"

Blossom nodded happily, "I was going to do _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ , but wearing a dress didn't sound particularly _ideal_ for the night."

With the mention of the night, Brute reminded herself that she needed to check in with the others. She quickly excused herself from the couple, making her way towards the swimming pool where Boomer and Butch should be.

The grass was covered with fog, concealing her skin from below her ankles. In the trees, cotton spider webs were wrapped around the branches. The snack table in the yard was covered in a similar spread to the one inside but this one had more bottles of alcohol instead of treats. Three kegs of beer rested next to the table with a line of individuals waiting to fill their cups. In the pool, there were lanterns similar to those overhead illuminating the water into a warm amber hue.

To her surprise, Brute found Princess and Boomer engaged in a conversation by the deep end of the pool.

"Princess?"

The redhead turned around from her name being called. Brute took in the frustrated face she had, which dropped for a second at the sight of the dark-haired girl as a brief, genuine smile appeared for a moment.

Brute felt her cheeks warm up from Princess' appearance despite having seen the costume multiple times already. Princess had decided to dress in the most notable outfit from her favorite film, _Clueless_ , wearing a yellow plaid suit. Her red curls were straighten for the night; the length of her hair ended right at her tailbone. The mini skirt she wore extenuated her thick thighs, making Brute become a puddle from one single glance.

All Brute wanted to truly say was, her girlfriend was pretty damn hot. However, she held her tongue as she could tell from Princess' and Boomer's face, there must be a potential problem.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"We can't find Butch," Princess confessed hushly. "I've checked everywhere I could but I can't continue to do so since I am hosting."

"And I can't leave," Boomer added to the dilemma.

He was dressed as a robber. All black in a tee-shirt, pants, and sneakers; the only thing in which made him appear to be in a costume was an eye mask he wore and a burlap sack printed with a large cash sign in hand. The dark hue of the mask contrasted against his ocean blue eyes, making them more striking than usual. His long blond hair was also tied back into a low bun to complete the costume.

Brute grinded her teeth together, her eyes narrowing. It was just another reason to not like Butch.

"I'll go find him," she determined.

"Make sure to tell him that he's a dick for abandoning me," Boomer remarked bitterly.

"Oh trust me. That will be the nicest thing I will say to him," Brute promised, heading back into the mansion to find the green-eyed male.

In consideration to his side effect, Brute was ninety-nine percent sure he was in the kitchen. She stomped her way in the direction, avoiding the fellow party guests around her, only to be stopped by a certain blonde

"Brute!"

The dark-haired girl was frozen. Her eyes closed for a moment, taking in a deep breath. She could do this, Brute told herself.

She could handle a brief conversation with Brat.

"Brat," Brute said hesitantly. "It's…" She rubbed her arm awkwardly. "It's nice to see you."

The blonde across from her was dressed in a black-and-white deep v-neck bodysuit and stiletto heels. A pair of white cat-eye sunglasses sat on her head, while her golden hair was held back into a tight side ponytail. The ends of her hair were styled into loose curls. Her lips were painted a vibrant red as her eyes were lined with a flawless cat-eye that Brute knew was done by Berserk, not Brat. Snowy white skin was exemplified with a dewy foundation and high amount of highlighter, making her skin appear to be like plastic.

Brat had chosen to be one of _Barbie's_ most iconic looks. Brute was able to recognize it quickly since she was pretty sure a celebrity did the exact same look a few years ago. Her costume was another example of the blonde simply following instead of being something independently herself.

"Oh my god! I'm so glad that I ran into you," Brat began, invading Brute's personal space to pull her into a tight hug. She was surprised the blonde was able to string together a sentence without appearing to be in pain. In the days before she quit working for Him and at the salon, Brat had been fighting a severe case of a sore throat. It must have passed, Brute assumed. "I _really_ need to talk to you. But first, I want to say that you have no idea how much I missed you."

"It sure didn't seem that way," Brute mumbled, which she meant to say in her head but accidents do happen.

Brat pulled back. Her cerulean eyes were wet with regret.

"I tried," Brat whimpered. "I really tried reasoning with her, but Berserk… she's relentless sometimes. I'm sorry, Brute. I'm sorry for abandoning you when you needed me the most."

Brute wanted to believe her. She wanted to accept her apology. But it was not like Brat has chosen to walk away from Him. The blonde was guilty about the wrong ordeal. She did not have her heart in the correct place.

Despite the fact Brute did feel abandoned by her two friends, Brat should not be apologetic about not being there for Brute but for being an ignorant pawn to Him's grand scheme. She should be sorry for helping the impending destruction of the world.

They may have problems but Brute's anger could not be about herself. The world and the people living in it, were way bigger than her. She had to prioritize them over hurt feelings.

"Brat. I can't forgive you," she admitted quietly, unable to meet the blonde in the eye. It would be even more painful to do so. Brute shook her head, "Not like this. Not when you're…"

"You can come back to us," Brat immediately pleaded, gripping at Brute's shoulders. The dark-haired girl attempted to take a step back to break free but Brat did not accept her action, keeping a firm hold on her. "Please. I can't do this alone. And I can assure it would be in your _best interest and safety_ if you did."

"You have Berserk," Brute deflected bitterly, ignoring the blonde's reasoning for her to join Him again.

Brat rolled her eyes, "Yeah. Right." Her tone oozed with sarcasm. "Because Berserk wants anything to do with me now that she has Butch."

Brute arched an eyebrow, "She's become flaky again?"

"Yes!" The blonde whined, stomping her foot against the marble tiling of Princess' foyer. "The only time I see her, is at work or…" Cerulean eyes stared at her sheepishly, "Well, I can't tell you the other place. But even then, she's detached. All she does is have these secretive conversations with Butch all the time and it's driving me insane, Brute. More than usual. Like, what they _want_ to do, I actually feel sorry for..."

Brute waited for Brat to finish her sentence but she did not seem to want to. The green-eyed girl let out a sigh. "Brat, I can't do anything about it."

"If you came back—"

"I'm not coming back, Brat," she said firmly. Green daggers sent in the blonde's direction.

Brat let out a heavy sigh, releasing Brute from her hold. "I should have figured. I just…" She dabbed at her eyes. Her voice cracking as she spoke, "I just want my best friends back, you know? I miss the both of y'all and it sucks that I didn't just lose one of you, but the both of y'all it seems." Brat hugged herself in comfort. "Then again, who cares? No one seems to care if I'm around or not unless it's to one up the other."

"Brat…" Brute whispered but it was too late.

Brat had turned away from her, taking steps away. Her eyes glanced Brute over one last time in sorrow.

"I'll see you around, I guess," Brat mumbled, diverging into the crowd.

Brute fought the strong urge to chase after her. To smooth over the rough paths in their relationship.

But she had to remember tonight was not about herself. Tonight was about taking the first real step in saving humanity.

Brute made her way to the other side of the foyer, finding Bubbles and Buttercup standing by the door.

Buttercup arched her eyebrow when Brute came into view.

She was dressed as a ninja for the night. The dark-haired girl wore a sleeveless, high neck bodysuit tucked into tight pants that seemed to be like a second skin on her and sneakers. Her mouth and nose were covered by a thin black mask as her short hair was styled into a messy top knot, allowing a few strands to get in her face. Light green eyes was surrounded by a heavy smokey eye and a gold eyeliner. In her slash wrapped around her waist, a plastic pair of sai were concealed.

The blonde next to her was dressed as a mime. Bubbles wore a black-and-white tee-shirt, black jeans, suspenders, white gloves, a beret, and ballet flats. Her face was covered in a white paint, with only her lips colored in a black lipstick and small circles on her cheeks to appear as blush.

"What's up?"

"Butch isn't at the pool."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, lowering her mask to her neck and huffing out hot air. "Of fucking course, he's not there. He's probably off making out with Berserk."

"Buttercup," the blonde warned.

Ever since the frequent outbursts between the former couple, everyone outside of the duo has grown tiresome of their unresolved tension but knew they had to police them to remain tame.

"What?" She exasperated. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

"You're sounding pretty bitter to me."

Buttercup folded her arms stubbornly, scoffing at her remark. "You know, for a mime, you sure do talk a lot."

"I'm going to check the kitchen," Brute stated after a beat, making the conscious decision to stay out of Buttercup and Butch's drama for the night.

"I'll go with you," Buttercup replied, practically jumping at the opportunity. Brute and Bubbles both exchanged unamused looks, speaking simultaneously.

"Buttercup, I don't think—"

"You shouldn't leave me—"

"I'm going," she said through her teeth. Daggers were sent in both directions of her friends. "Okay?"

Her question was more like a dare than permission. A dare for one of them to challenge and face the brewing wrath of Buttercup.

"Fine," Brute answered in a short manner, making her way to the kitchen without checking to see if Buttercup was following her.

She was seriously not in the mood to deal with their drama. Drama, in which, should not be the focus of the night. Buttercup should be worried about undermining Him, not seeing what her ex-boyfriend was up to.

The state of humanity was more important. Buttercup was simply being selfish in Brute's mind. A characteristic she recalled Berserk using against Buttercup on the rare occasion she was brought up in their conversation.

Perhaps, Berserk was more spot on than Brute had cared to notice.

The kitchen was not crowded at all. In fact, only two people were in the space and it was clear as to why.

Berserk sat on the granite countertop, her arms tightly wrapped around Butch's neck, her hands twisted up in his dark curls. He stood in between her legs, his one hand pressed flatly against the solid surface to keep his balance and the other gripping the outside of her thigh. His tall frame bended greatly as they kissed each other with such intensity and vigor.

Brute felt her cheeks warm from the sight. She should have expected to see them in such a nature but having to actually witness their public display of affection, threw her off, forgetting any harsh words she had for Butch.

"How surprising," Buttercup fumed.

Her hands coiled tightly into fists. A crackling sound of live electricity came from the palm of her hands as did a light stream of smoke.

Buttercup must be releasing a powerful quantity of electricity to cause the smoke.

Her body and tone conveyed nothing but fury; however, her eyes illustrated a different sight. A reflection of pure hurt casted off of her stare. The crushing reality of Butch's ability to carry on with Berserk in such ease. His lack of regard to the chance of Buttercup seeing them in this manner, created a deeper anguish within the girl than Brute could ever understand.

Brute heard Butch groan, reluctant to turn around to face them, but when he did, his emerald eyes stared at them boredly.

He was dressed in all white. An obvious indication of him not caring about the rule of wearing mostly black for the night. In a form-fitting white tee-shirt and jeans, he wore a small pair of angel wings on his back.

Brute knew he was supposed to be an angel, but she found it odd how he did not incorporate a halo into his costume. A lacking of purity and holiness was portrayed from him despite being dressed as the single entity in which was known for conveying those aspects.

"Can I help you?"

Buttercup folded her arms, furrowing her eyebrows, "Yeah. Boomer needs you. He's by the pool."

"Oh, does he now?" A chilling voice pitched in.

Brute felt shivers run down her spine. Peeking around Butch's strong shoulders, Berserk glanced at them, unimpressed by their interruption. Her hot pink eyes settled onto Buttercup as she withdrew herself from the countertop, landing onto the tile flooring of the kitchen.

Brute arched an eyebrow, taking note of Berserk and Butch's decision to do a couple's costume.

She wore an incredibly small scarlet halter top in which stopped before her belly button and a tight mini-skirt. They were paired with six inch stilettos and fishnets that matched the same hue as her clothing. Her skin was doused in shimmer, reflecting off a red-tinted whenever the light struck it. She styled her hair into loose waves with a devil's horns headband. Her eyeshadow was similar to Brute's, using an extravagant amount of scarlet glitter. Her lips were painted a usual shade of red for her. On the counter, Brute noticed a tiny plastic devil's fork.

Despite how Brute felt about her, it was hard for her not to recognize how Berserk was still the most eye-catching person in any room.

Brute could feel the heat of aggression radiating off of Buttercup. She decided it was best if she replied to Berserk than the dark-haired girl beside her.

"Yeah, he does. And it's kind of important, so…"

Berserk blinked at her in response. Her chin tilted a little to the side. Brute braced herself for whatever brutal words were going to be uttered by the orange-haired girl.

"Well I wouldn't want to keep Butch away from something that is important," she replied, her hand lightly touching his shoulder. Her eyes went to his, "You should go to your friend."

"You sure?"

Berserk took a second to subtle grin, nodding. "He _needs_ you. You shouldn't abandoned him."

"Right," Butch exhaled. He leaned in, giving Berserk a quick peck before leaving.

Brute heard Buttercup gag, chuckling quietly to herself. However, she no longer found humor in it anymore when Berserk watched them with her signature stare.

With a look, she had the ability to make an individual feel utterly insignificant. As if they were the scum of the world.

The worst part of it, she did not have to move any of her facial muscles. Her blank stare just so happened to be her most terrifying one.

Brute expected her to say something. To belittle her or, more likely, Buttercup.

However, Berserk grabbed the tiny devil's fork and left the space without a single word spoken. The sound of her heels clipping against the flooring, echoed the silence more in Brute's ears.

"That was… _Odd._ " Brute said, coming out more like a question.

Buttercup snorted, "No kidding. Usually she spends at least ten minutes making me feel like shit."

"Yeah…" Brute noted. In her heart, she felt something was off but could not explain why.

Perhaps she was too accustomed to the Berserk she used to know. Since getting back with Butch, Brute was aware of how much the orange-haired girl behaved differently. It could be, Brute did not know her anymore like she used to.

Even if it had only been a month since the seemingly demise of their friendship. A lot could change over the course of a month, she had realized.

"I should get back to Bubbles."

Brute nodded, stating departing words to the fellow green-eyed girl. She texted Princess to inform her of everyone being in their place before wondering around the party aimless for awhile, waiting for the cue for the others to leave. When it happened, Brute knew she had to find Princess to execute their part of the plan.

It took about twenty minutes, but when the opening notes of _Thriller_ played, Brute rushed over to the dance floor as it was her meeting place with Princess. As the song played, the group of six were supposed to sneak out during the excitement of, what Brute believed to be, the most iconic Halloween song. It was a tradition at Morbucks' Halloween parties for everyone to gather on the dance floor during this particular song, with all guests heading to the dance floor in a muddled mess; in which would help them lose Him's attention if he was watching over. It was the perfect cover for the group as Blossom determined in the earlier stages of planning.

As Brute made eye contact with Princess from across the dance floor, she took a deep breath, hoping everything would go according to plan.

* * *

The lake was eerily calm. There was a lack of silver lighting for the night since it was a new moon, making the scenery darker than usual. The heat of the air seemed to stifle as one grew closer to the lake, the atmosphere becoming unbearably dry.

When the six arrived to the lake, they quickly rushed over to the shore. It took Boomer less than a minute to form a bubble around them. His arms moved freely in opposite circular motions over his head. The other five surrounded him in a loose circle—Buttercup and Bubbles were behind the blond, Butch and Blossom took the sides, and Brick was at the head—making their way underneath the lake water. Their steps were taking with caution as they traveled with a gradual slope downward.

"Hey. So I just want to say that I love all you guys," Boomer said nervously. His eye mask removed as was his burlap sack, which were left in his car. "You are truly the greatest friends I've ever had and—"

"Boomer, quit talking like we're all going to die," Buttercup interjected, rolling her eyes. Her mask and plastic sai no longer with her either.

"Well, I'm still not sold on the idea that we will survive this, so I wanted to make sure you all knew how I felt."

"Eh," Butch shrugged, his angel wings no longer on his back. "If we did die, we'll all just be reborn again with the new time loop."

"Not if Him wins. The reason the time loop exists is for Him to better his chances each time. If we all die at once like this, I'm pretty sure Him will not restart time again," Bubbles added. Her face bare from the white makeup she wore at the party as she wiped it away on the drive to the lake.

"At least we would die before Him suffocates the world into a hellish inferno," Boomer pointed out. There was a tangible sense of relief in his low, tired tone. "We would also die together… that sounds like a nice way to go out…"

"Boomer, does everything you have to say have to be full of gloom and despair?"

"Ah, yeah?" His dark blues shifted back to Buttercup in offense. "This entire situation is driving me up the walls with anxiety. I'm so sorry if I can't help my irrational thoughts that seem to actually be correct whenever we go into anything blindly," he replied sarcastically.

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows with agitation, "Well why don't—"

"Leave him alone, Buttercup," Butch said calmly.

"Oh don't even get me started with you, Butch."

He rolled his eyes dramatically, "No. Please. Tell me what I did this time."

"First of all, you abandoned Boomer at the party," Buttercup began, pointing her finger at him accusingly. His emerald eyes stared at her from the corner, watching her aggressive nature boredly. "Then you don't even bother to follow our rule to wear black to add stealth on our side. Plus, you seemed like you would rather make out with Berserk," Buttercup spat out her name as if it was venom, gaining a harsh glare from Butch for a second. "Than help us out. It's like you _wanted_ to sabotage our plans."

"Right," he scoffed. "Because I would do such a thing."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Butch let out a heavy breath, his fists tightening in grip. "Buttercup, move the fuck on. I swear—"

"Will you two shut the fuck up?" Brick snapped, turning his neck around to them, no longer wearing a white tee-shirt as he changed into a black one on the way to the lake. His ruby-colored eyes glanced between them furiously. The two green-eyed individuals could not help but cower a little with fright as they have never seen Brick display such an intensity of emotions before. Pairs of hands tugged on his scarlet locks, ruining the pompadour he had for the night. "I am so fucking sick and tired of your fighting. So you had a terrible ass break up. That doesn't mean you have to drag out your bullshit in front of us all the time. Why don't you have an actual conversation with each other instead of being at each other's throats? It would be the first fucking decent thing you both have done in the past month."

"Well… That…" The both fumbled simultaneously before folding their arms in defeat. Their gaze going down to the hard surface underneath the lake.

They were still walking on an incline despite having been under for a good five minutes. The depth of the lake not seeming to let up. Boomer was beginning to break a sweat as the increase of water pressure was expanding the more deeper they went. The water around them appearing to be like a thick ink; dark and unrelenting.

"You know…" Bubbles said quietly after a good stretch of silence was experienced by all of them following Brick's outburst. Her light blue eyes went to her fingers as she rubbed together the growing ice crystals under her fingertips. "I wonder what it is going to be like after all of this is over. Like... Are we still going to be friends? Or... are we even friends right now? Are we just forcing our relationships because of the need to stop something way bigger than us?" She questioned dejectingly. "If we weren't thrown into this crappy situation, would we even talk to each other anymore? Because... I'm not even sure anymore..."

No one answered the blonde's questions, unable to find a truthfully answer within themselves. All except for Blossom, who spoke up for the first time since going under the lake.

"Of course we will," she replied sincerely. Her rose-colored eyes flickered around the bubble, taking a moment to meet everyone's gaze. "I know things seem rough right now and we're getting on each other's nerves, I admit, but I have faith that we will all grow from this. Not just individually but also our friendships with each other."

Buttercup groaned loudly, gaining harsh stares from the boys. "Blossom, you're so blind with optimism sometimes, it's unbearable. You can't always try to see the good in everything. That's _always_ been your problem. You try to believe in this ridiculous idea that good things happen in life, but newsflash _sweetheart_ , everything and everyone is shitty. I thought after Henry, you would realize—"

"Shut the fuck up, Buttercup," Brick hissed.

"Someone is a bit touchy," the dark-haired girl said under her breath, returning the daggers he was sending her.

"It's okay, Brick," Blossom said gently, meeting Brick's eyes, calming him down with a single glance before narrowing her own eyes at Buttercup. "That was completely uncalled for and you know it."

"Like I care," she puffed, rolling her eyes.

"You should," Bubbles added disappointingly. "If we can't be friends after all of this, it's all because of _you_ , Buttercup. You're driving all of us away. And I don't want that to happen. I know you need us and we need you too."

"...I don't need any of you," the green-eyed girl muttered to herself.

Butch snorted, shaking his head, "God. You're so full of shit."

"Butch," Boomer warned, taking a split second to wipe away the rising amount of sweat on his forehead. The layer of water in which formulated the bubble began to wobble a little, making Boomer's eyes grow wide. He quickly moved his hands in a circular motion again as if he never stopped in order to keep the bubble stable.

"No, Boom. We all know the true reason why she's been an absolute terror to be around lately." His stare fell back on her from the corner of his eyes, briefly displaying sympathy despite his better judgement. "Ever since your dad passed, you're afraid of losing the people you love," he said softly. It was the gentlest he has spoken to her since their break up. "So instead of letting them leave you, Buttercup, you want it to be on your own terms. Push them away, make them think you hate them. It's all so you don't feel like it was their decision to leave you. It's what happened to Blossom. It's what been happening to me. And it's what you're doing to all of us right now."

"He's right," Blossom inputted calmly to Buttercup.

The dark-haired girl had her head turned away from the group, staring out at the dark abyss of the lake water surrounding them instead, unwilling to agree to truth they were stating. They had finally met a plateau with the ground, no longer having to walk cautiously from the slope.

"I know our break up has been hard for you," he continued tenderly.

His thoughts continuous informed him to abort. Whatever Butch had to say, it would all appear to be a ploy. Even if he meant every single word he could utter.

However, he remained persistent due to his unconditional love for Buttercup. Love, in which, Butch has not gotten to display of lately and would not get to in the future. But for this very moment, Butch let it show on the sleeve he has kept covered in the past few weeks. For this moment, he would let go of any of the outside influence and schemes they were in on.

In this moment, he was solely speaking from the heart.

"I feel like it's not about you wanting me but more about, wanting my affections. It's _always_ been that way, somehow." Butch took a sobering breath. "I don't think you fell in love with me originally, _for me_ , but because I was easy. You knew I already loved you and I was hooked on to you for a good amount of years. I made it safe for you to invest your love into me. You didn't believe there would be a chance for me to take away my love. That you'll always have the upper hand in our relationship."

Buttercup attempted to ignore the aching in her heart as he spoke. The thought of him believing her love for him was not true at first, cut her deeply. She did not know what hurt more. The fact he knew and still loved her regardless or that he was correct. Hearing Butch stating her actions out loud, made her realize what she subconsciously did. How she unintentional took advantage of Butch.

Berserk was right. Buttercup had been selfish with Butch's love. It sort of made a little sense to her as to why he chose Berserk over her.

"After some time, I do believe, you truly did fall in love with me. Maybe more than I did for you…" He paused, loosening the tension in which had taking home in him ever since their break up. "And what I'm getting at here, is that you're not mainly hurt about the break up and losing me as your boyfriend, but more because I left before you had the chance to do it to me. Because you feel like I took away the one constant stream of love in your life, and now, you don't know how to replace it. So instead of finding a new way to feel love, you're rejecting any type given to you. After your dad and me, you don't want to go through losing someone else again..."

The bubble remained silent for a good minute. The other four felt invasive for witnessing such an intimate moment in which should have solely been between the two dark-haired individuals.

Buttercup glanced down at her feet and then to the back of Butch's head.

"Maybe you're right," she whispered. Her voice cracking from the vortex of emotions she was experiencing. From the overwhelming need inside of her that pressed for forgiveness between them. However, Buttercup held back from accepting the need due to the ever-growing hurt he has caused her recently. "But that doesn't explain your own awful behavior, Butch."

"Fine," he exhaled, all eyes on him except for Boomer who was focused on what was ahead of them. Even though he should not, Butch opened his mouth to speak. "If you want to know, I—"

"Guys! What the hell is that?" The blond questioned, interrupting Butch. Whatever his revelation was going to be, was quickly forgotten by the others.

In the murky darkness in the water, a rectangular shape stood out. Solid concrete walls protruded out from the bottom of the lake. A long narrow line seemed to be connected to the shape, made out of the same structure as the walls.

Brick narrowed his eyes before gasping quietly. "I think it's a bunker."

"All the way down here?" Bubbles asked. "Why?"

"I've never heard anything about a bunker underneath the lake," Boomer stated with perplexity.

"And how far down are we anyways?"

"According to my phone, Bubs. We've walked about…" Blossom glanced down at the app she was using. "One point five miles. Which means—"

"We're at the center of the lake," Buttercup finished. Her green eyes grew wide as did the others. "Guys. This is getting way more strange than I expected."

"Same," Brick agreed.

Butch's eyes snapped over to the side of him, taking notice to a faint, bright flashing light. The illuminating object made impact with the side of the bubble, bursting weakly in the darkness of the water. A pinhole was cut into the wall of the bubble, growing in size with each second. His feet moved closer to Boomer.

"Um, Boomer. There's a hole in the bubble."

"What?" Boomer exclaimed, followed by the others doing the same.

All focus went to the rip in the bubble. A leak of water infiltrated the dry space, soaking the ground where Butch originally stood. The blond moved his hands in a more furious pace, attempting to fix the hole. The water continued to flow in, increasing the rip in the thin veil of water. The pouring liquid was at their knees as they all moved to the center of the bubble, speaking under their breath of their worries to each other but they went unheard by the blond. Despite any of their personal beliefs, they prayed silently for Boomer to fix it.

In a blink of an eye, the bubble burst completely. A rapid rush of water capsized them in an instant. The force of the liquid hitting them like a truck, knocking the wind out of them as they were separated into different directions from the wave's current.

Struggling against the density of the water, Boomer pushed through, trying to swim to the surface. His arms burned from the large amount of effort needed. The swim seemed endless in his mind.

For a moment, he believed this was it. He was going to die. A watery grave was the way he was going to go out.

And then his hand broke through to the surface. His head popped out, greeted by the mass amount of stars above him. He gasped furiously for air, his lungs coursing like wildfire. There was a lack of water dripping off of him due to his hydrophobic skin, making it seem like he did not swim through an impossible length of submersion.

With all the strength in him, he turned around in desperate circles, looking for the others.

"Guys?" He called out in a distraught manner. "Guys? Guys?" He dug his hands into his scalp, speaking to himself. Panic setting in with mass effect. "Oh god, Boomer. They're all dead and it's your fault. You shouldn't have let this happen. Why couldn't you—"

The blond paused, hearing two loud gulps for air to his right. He quickly swam over in the direction, finding Bubbles and Buttercup. The dark makeup on Buttercup's face seemingly melted down her cheeks and into the lake water. Both of their hair clinging to their skin.

"Fuck," Buttercup breathed.

"Are you okay?" Boomer asked, flickering his eyes between the two.

Bubbles coughed heavily. "Yeah," she croaked. "Just swallowed a little too much water."

"My muscles are fucking on fire," the green-eyed girl stated as a splash was heard in the distance. They glanced at each other, silently agreeing to head in the direction, finding Blossom and Butch trying to catch their breath.

"You're alive!" Boomer exclaimed with great relief.

Blossom nodded slowly, a small grin on her lips. Her hair was no longer in a bun, having been freed from the force of the wave. "Yeah… we're alive."

"Are you sure? Because my body feels like it died three times down there," Butch exasperated. His dark curls were matted down to his forehead. Droplets of water falling from his eyelashes.

Bubbles smiled at the four before her eyes widened, glancing around with urgency. "Um guys…" The four gave her their attention. " _Where's Brick_?"

With the mention of his name, Blossom gasped. Her rose-colored eyes glazed over with utter fear.

"He can't swim," she whispered to herself before diving back down into the lake without any hesitation.

Going down was much more difficult than predicted. The water seemed to not want to part, pushing her upward. It felt as if she was at a stand still. Her arms and legs pushed forward with little reward. She released the air in her cheeks, tiny bubbles directing upward around her. Her lungs shrinking tightly in her chest, screaming for her to fill them with oxygen.

She ignored her body's calling for the surface. Her adrenaline pumped in her veins rapidly, giving her enough of a boost of energy to continue swimming further down.

As she approached the bottom of the lake, Blossom glanced around hasty; desperate to find Brick. In the darkness of the water, it seemed impossible to find him. Especially with the dark clothing he wore as he would blend in more into the gloomy surrounding.

Blossom swam in each direction. Her body aching for her to quit and replenish herself with oxygen. She closed her eyes for a moment, accepting what seemed to be Brick's fate. Her heart growing heavy from not only the lack of oxygen but from the sense of failure.

She attempted to tap into her powers to reverse time. To stop them from leaving Princess' party or even step foot in the bubble. But she could not get the results she wanted. Her rose-colored eyes fluttered open slowly, devastated by the turn of events.

As she took in the underwater scenery again, something caught her eye. She narrowed them, finding a small amount of red swaying with the current of water on the ground. Blossom quickly swam towards it. Her eyes widening as she found Brick laying unconsciously on the solid surface. His hair was the only thing moving, swirling with the water combing through it; in which was what helped her find him.

She wrapped his limp arm around her shoulders, pushing against the ground and swimming up towards the surface with one arm to use. His body mass was slowing her down greatly, and with her own self already exhausted from swimming up and then back down beforehand, Blossom was not sure if they could make it back to the surface.

However, Blossom had to try. She pushed through the pain she felt. Her limbs becoming almost useless. She looked over to Brick. His lips were parted slightly, indicating he must have ingested a good amount of the lake water. Blossom blinked back, feeling tears in her eyes but they were lost in the murky water of the lake.

As she was beginning to lose hope, Blossom felt the other side of Brick's body lift up. She glanced over to find Boomer wrapping Brick's other arm around his shoulder. The blond gave her a single nod, kicking his feet to help propel them upward. Blossom sent him a grateful smile, copying the same action as him.

They surfaced a few moments later, making their way to the other three. Each looked at Brick solemnly, fearing for the worst. Boomer pushed Brick's arm away gently. His eyes closed for a second before opening again as he conjured up a rapid jet stream in the water to get them all to the shore in the matter of seconds.

Once on the solid ground, Blossom laid Brick's body flat against the pebbles of the beach. She sat next to him, her two fingers held against his neck.

He had a pulse, thankfully.

Her ear hovered over his mouth, not picking up on any signs of breathing from him. His chest rigid, producing grieve and panicked thoughts among the group.

"He's not breathing," she informed with a tight breath as the others surrounded around them, watching over the two with agony.

Blossom tilted his head back, letting his chin lift up, preparing to perform CPR on him. She placed one hand on top of the other, settling them on the middle of his chest. Using her body weight, she pushed hard and fast, keeping up the recommended pace by counting under her breath to keep track.

She pinched his nose, covering his mouth to blow two breaths before continuing to push against his chest.

Blossom repeated her actions for what seemed a lifetime to her but was only four minutes. She took notice to the small rise and fall in his chest when she administered another round of breaths into his mouth, giving her the sign to not give up hope.

With one more breath, Blossom watched as Brick took in a deep, gasping breath of his own. His head turned to side. A great amount of water spilling out of his mouth as he choked himself awake. His eyes fluttered open cautiously. A light groan escaped his lips. He wiped his mouth, lifting his head up but found there to be a heavy concentration of tension in his brain.

"Brick," Blossom whispered, wrapping her arms around him. Tears streamed down her face as she spoke in his ear. "I will never let anything happen to you like that again."

Brick weakly arched an eyebrow, confused. "What… what happened?"

"You almost drowned, man," Butch said gently.

"Oh." He blinked, becoming aware of why Blossom was so distressed. His frail arms returned the hug. "Thank you for, uh, saving me," he muttered to her. A sight swig of disappointment in his tone went undetected by her.

Blossom lifted her head, nodding. Her rose-colored eyes finding a home in his. "Brick, I—"

"Well, isn't this heartwarming?"

Buttercup, Bubbles, and Blossom glanced at each other quickly.

"It can't be..."

"How could…"

"No, no, no…"

The girls turned to the pine forest behind them, finding a trail of thick fog coming from the area. In the darkness, a thin figure moved forward, revealing themselves to be the one person they had believed was taken care of.

"Ace," Buttercup hissed.

The green-skinned man grinned wickedly, clapping his hands slowly. The sound echoing profoundly on the bare beach. "Kudos to you, ladies. For a moment, you almost had me." He ceased in his applause, lowering his shades to meet their eyes. "But thankfully, Him found me to be _incredibly_ useful."

Boomer glanced down at the redheads, speaking quietly to them. "Blossom, you need to take Brick and get out of here."

"But—"

"You're too weak to fight right now, Brick. You need to go and gather up some strength before anything happens."

Blossom nodded for the both them, using the small amount of energy she had left to help Brick up. Putting his arm around her shoulder, most of his weight shifted onto her, Blossom slowly carried them over to the large rock on the beach, in which was a good distance away from the others.

Bubbles narrowed her eyes at the male opposed from them. "How did you know we were here?"

"Oh," he sang. "A _little birdie_ told me about your plans." The four exchanged perplexed looks, each wondering who betrayed them. "But enough with the small talk. Why don't you show me what you're all capable of?"

"Fine," Buttercup said evenly, sending a lightning bolt in his direction without any hesitations. Ace took a step to the side, allowing the jolt of electricity to flow right by him.

He grinned at them, folding his arms behind his back. "Hold on. Aren't you supposed to be the heroes of all of this?"

"Um… sure?" Bubbles answered skeptically.

"Then how is four against one fair?"

"Life's just not fair, Ace," Buttercup grumbled, impulsively sending another bolt of lightning at him.

Before it hit him, a blur in motion came and moved him three steps away in the blink of an eye. Dust from the beach picked up in the air. As it settled, Ace was no longer alone.

Berserk and Brat had joined his side. Both were still in their clothing from the party but no longer wore the accessories with it.

"Oh look, your girlfriend is here to kill us," Buttercup remarked bitterly to Butch.

Butch narrowed his eyes at her. After their moment in the bubble, he surely believed she would not behave this way anymore.

Or at least, during _this_ moment.

Ace watched the four with great amusement, cracking his neck in preparation. "Shall we begin now?"

As he finished speak, Brat opened her mouth, omitting a loud sonic scream on the four. They each drove to the ground, covering their ears in desperation.

Boomer struggled to get control on the water behind him due to the sonic waves disrupting him from getting a good grip on the liquid material. With all of his concentration, he was able send a hard stream of water in Brat's direction, knocking her down to the ground and momentarily ending her screaming ability.

Buttercup quickly stood, letting pulses of electricity crackle in her hands. She focused her attention on Berserk, making the motion to attack. As a jolt left her fingertips, a wall of earth blocked her act of offense, crumbling from the power of the electricity that struck it.

The dark-haired girl turned to the male beside her, her eyes full of bewilderment.

"What the fuck, Butch? You can't protect her when she's against us."

His eyes seemed to darken at comment. A sly grin formed at the corners of his lips.

"You're right," Butch remarked wickedly. He shifted his footing, making the ground beneath him move like a conveyor belt, heading straight towards the space beside Berserk. His watched them from the opposing side of the lake as they blinked back in shock. "Which is why I'm _not_ working against her."

"Butch, no…" Bubbles mumbled sorrowfully, unwilling to accept the transpiring events.

Boomer was unable to look in Butch's direction, mentally berating himself for not seeing the green-eyed male's betrayal beforehand. There were so many signs he had ignored simply for the sake of their friendship. The blond could not believe how he allowed himself to be so ignorant.

Then there was Buttercup who could not stop from staring at her former boyfriend. Her mouth hung low in astonishment. She had thrown some accusations his way about working for the other side, but Buttercup mainly did it to get under his skin. To create seeds of doubt in his relationship with Berserk. Never in a million years did she truly believe Butch would deceive them to willingly work with Him.

His double-cross proved to her that anyone was able to break her trust. Her need to push others way seemed to become more validated as she stared him down.

Her light green eyes narrowed him. His treachery hitting her to it's fullest effect.

In the bubble, she had a small amount of hope towards mending their shattered relationship. The slightest chance of becoming friends, perhaps. However, now, she saw it was simply a ruse to get on her good side. To blind her from further suspecting his impending betrayal.

She wanted nothing to ever do with him and his disloyal ways.

Buttercup threw a glance at the blondes next to her. "Butch's ass is mine," Buttercup declared, running a full on sprint towards him, casting a continuous stream of lightning in his direction.

Butch block each attack with a thick wall of rock, grinning at the reaction he got out of her.

Boomer and Bubbles separated, taking on their own battles.

Boomer went to Brat. Her sonic screams piercing his eardrums, weakening him to the ground. Whenever he could, Boomer would do the same attack he did beforehand, sending Brat to the ground for a moment until she got up and began screaming at the top of her lungs again.

In between the other two fights, Ace was dodging the sharp icicles sent his way. His slim body giving him the advantage of agility against Bubbles. The blonde could not help wondering why Ace was not conjuring up his toxic gas to use against her. There was something off, she determined. He was toying with her, but Bubbles could not be sure of how and why he was. Since she could not figure it, the blonde believed it was better for her to try tiring him out with dodging her attacks to prevent whenever he had up his sleeve.

In the distance, Blossom and Brick watched from behind the rock with great dismay.

The pink-eyed girl was troubled by the turn of events, feeling guilty for leading them all into the trap. Boomer was right; they should have waited, thought everything through, and planned better.

Not to mention, she should not have invested so much trust in Butch and Berserk. Blossom should have saw the negatives of their rekindled relations instead of having somewhat encouraged it to happen.

There was not a single aspect of the night so far that was not her fault.

Brick, however, was not surprised by how everything played out. He knew there would be a great amount of trouble if they attempted any plan in such a early and illy thought out manner. His inability of vocalizing his concerns were caused by Blossom's over eager attitude to stop Him. Her steamrolling—but well-meaning—nature prevented Brick from having the slightest bit of want to formulate any ideas of halting them. He knew there would be no subduing Blossom when her mind was settled. Instead of wasting his breath, Brick decided it was better if he went along with her plan in order to protect her.

Turns out, he was also correct in assuming the need to keep Blossom safe.

Butch being a traitor was not something he could have predicted, but it did make a lot of sense. It would explain why the green-eyed male's powers seemed to be more advanced the one day in the desert with Robin despite showing no improvements when training. Him must have taught Butch how to master his powers secretly, similar to how the demon did for Brick and those who worked for him.

Instead, the redhead male was more bothered by not being able to help the others. Out of all them, he had the most experience with his abilities, which would give them the advantage in battle. Furthermore, it would give them an equal playing field as Him's side had four against three now.

Wait…

"Where's Berserk?" Brick questioned urgently.

"I don't—"

Before Blossom could reply, a force grabbed her arm with great velocity. The world around her become a blur until her back was struck against a tree on the opposite end of the lake in a harsh manner.

She inhaled sharply, not surprised to find Berserk in front of her. The orange-haired girl withdrew her grip. Her head was tilted to a degree, a half-turned grin painted across her lips.

"Blossom."

"What do you want, Berserk?"

"I want to know what you know." Her hand lifted Blossom's chin. Her scarlet nail dug into the redhead's creamy skin. "What secrets have you figured out?" she sang.

Blossom blinked at her in response. "I don't… I don't know what you want."

"I believe you do, sweetie."

"I don't." Blossom shook her head. "I'm sure you already know the same amount as I do."

Berserk leaned closer to her. She was close enough that the tip of Blossom's nose could touch her's. "Your visions haven't given you anymore information? I find that to be unlikely."

"No. Nothing I found relevant." Blossom's mind immediately flashed to one particular revelation she has kept to herself as her words left her lips. One that would be beneficial to Berserk despite their opposing sides. Blossom may not like Berserk anymore but it did not mean she was going to behave cruelly towards the girl. Not with what she has seen from the past timelines. "Well, there was this one thing. I saw it twice and I don't know how but Brat—"

Out of the corner of her eyes, Berserk spotted a illuminating light hurling her way. She clutched onto Blossom's shoulder, moving her and Blossom out of the way in a nanosecond, letting a fireball hit the tree. The flames crackled against the bark of the plant, soon to be engulfed by the viscous fire.

Berserk removed her hold on Blossom, meeting Brick's eyes.

"Leave her alone."

Berserk rolled her eyes. It was much easier carrying out her plan when Brick was in his weakened state, but it seemed he regained his energy rather quickly. The redhead male was surely going to be a pain to do away with.

"I liked you better when you drowned."

His fists was consumed by flames from her comment. He waited for Berserk to make the first move before doing anything.

The orange-haired girl chuckled at his passive nature. She would have believed someone with pyrokinesis would be more aggressive and ruthless in battle but Brick was not willing to risk losing control. It was one of his most obvious weaknesses she spotted.

The other being his relentless need to protect Blossom and incapability to swim.

Berserk glanced back at the redhead next to her. A mischievous grin spread across her lips as she grabbed her again, using her speed to run across the lake water. Halfway through her sprint, Berserk let go of Blossom, dropping the girl back into the water without a warning. A loud and sizable splash followed afterward.

The redhead popped her head up to the surface, spitting out the water she swallowed, irritated by the need to swim again.

"You have got to be kidding me!" She fumed, slapping the topical layer of water before beginning to swim to shore again.

On the land, the three separate battles continued on simultaneously.

While Boomer was slowly gaining an upper hand on Brat as the blonde girl was losing steam quickly, Bubbles was struggling not to exhaust all of her energy on Ace. The green-tinted male was able to dodge all of her attacks, not breaking a single sweat it seemed. Meanwhile, Bubbles could tell her icicle spears were progressively becoming weaker as the fight went on.

Then there was Butch and Buttercup, who were evenly matched at the moment. Her lightning bolts broke through his earth defense but Butch was too quick with the constant need to protect himself. Neither of them taking any damage from each other.

"I'm sure you're getting tired," Butch taunted from behind his wall of rock. "You're always the first one to waste all of your energy. Too irresponsible with all the power you have within."

"Shut the fuck up," she growled. Her lightning strikes grew in more intensity to match her fury.

Butch grinned, mentally creating a new wall as her attack broke through the previous one. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm tired of hearing your traitor ass talking to me."

"You seem a lot more outraged for someone who kept accusing me of betrayal," Butch pressed, his eyebrow arching. "You, of all people, should have saw this coming."

"That's because I trusted you!" She raged. The lightning from her fingernails cracked more wildly. Some loose strands struck the pebbles of the ground instead of hitting Butch's wall.

"Heh," he chuckled darkly. An untold secret hidden behind his emerald eyes. "Then I'm guess I'm a better actor than I thought."

Buttercup grunted to herself, taking the initiative to make a true attack against him, running full force towards Butch. "How could you?" She screamed at the top of her lungs. No longer was her voice full of aggression. Instead, it cracked from the strain of desolation she felt as she punched the rock wall he had formed. Her fist was unable to break it like her lightning could but Buttercup did not care. Nor did she pay any mind to pain signals from her hand and the many scrapes finding a home on her knuckles. Her mind was blinded by the impulsive need to express the hurt Butch has inflicted onto her. "How you betray us? How could you…" She stopped punching the wall, staring at the surface with devastation. " _How could you betray me_?"

The wall keeping them separated slid back into the ground, seeming as if it was never pulled out to use. Butch's emerald eyes met Buttercup's, taking in the undeniable sorrow behind them.

"Like you said," he said calmly. Butch leaned forward, reaching out to Buttercup, tucking a strand of her loose hair. His mouth hovered over her ear. " _Life just isn't fair_."

In a flash, Butch took a step back, kicking up a rock the size of his head, sending it straight into Buttercup's stomach. The dark-haired girl fell into the pebbles of the beach. Her back ached from the rough landing.

She rose, glaring at Butch, wishing for him to be dead. If not, wishing to be the one to have him meet his end.

A swirling intensity began in her body. Her muscles were jittering from an uncontrollable amount of electrical power. A verdant tint of energy illuminated her body as shock waves surrounded her like barbwire. She was about to lose control, Buttercup realized. Her emotions were taking over, driving her powers to its maximum peak. She could kill everyone on the beach if she allowed it to happen. Buttercup knew she needed to calm down.

But as she looked at Butch and his deceitful face, Buttercup felt her emotions become a hurricane within her.

She prepared herself to unleash her abilities at its fullest force against him. Her two fingers pointed straight at his heart. She was physically able to watch the electricity course down her arm, reaching the tips of her fingers. As she shot at him, a blur got in the way, moving him out of range.

Her strike left a crater in the ground as Berserk had pushed Butch out of harm's way.

"Thanks," he acknowledged. The orange-haired girl nodded before running off.

Butch clutched onto the ground. His hands generating seismic activity underneath them. However, instead of letting the unstable movement affect the entire beach, Butch was able to isolate it in one area. Particularity, the ground Buttercup stood above.

The micro earthquake shook her violently. More powerful than the one Butch had caused a few days ago. Her feet were unable to keep balance as she lost the chance to tap into the raging emotions in which helped channel her unruly abilities.

The green-eyed male grinned in delight, continuing his attack, not letting up for a good amount of time.

But suddenly, he stopped. Buttercup glanced up at him, puzzled by his decision. However, she saw the opportunity to make a move offensively, lifting up her fingers to point at Butch. As she was about to release another shot, a strong gust of wind was felt from her right side.

With all the might she had and an unmeasurable amount of kinetic energy on her side, Berserk came out of nowhere, punching Buttercup square in the jaw at seventy miles per hour, knocking the dark-haired girl out cold.

Berserk shook out her fist as she stood over Buttercup's unconscious body.

"I've been wanting to do that since high school," she stated proudly while Butch expressed a brief sense of concern for Buttercup.

He knew they had to take her out but Butch wished it was not done in such a rough manner. However, he could not express his thoughts nor show them.

"Good job," he remarked faintly from across the way.

Berserk grinned at him, letting her guard down for the moment, failing to notice the redhead—who ran the exterior distance of the lake's beach to reach her in particular—approaching her from behind.

A cast of flames danced across her feet, containing her in a vortex of heat. There was enough distance to prevent any burning done to her.

"What the—?"

In retaliation for Buttercup, Brick ceased the flames around her, drawing back his fist and punching Berserk in a similar manner. The orange-haired girl fell to the ground, receiving a similar end as Buttercup did, knocking out on the pebbles of the beach.

"Viviana!" Butch called out before turning his focus to Brick. His emerald eyes consumed by a complete darkness. "Did you seriously just hit my girlfriend?" He questioned venomously.

Brick shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. The flame he had struck against a tree on the opposite side of the lake had become more consuming. A wildfire had broken out, illuminating behind him, highlighting his silhouette and extending his shadow. "She had it coming."

"Oh, it is so on," the dark-haired male threatened, kicking up head-sized rocks to send in Brick's direction, beginning a new battle for himself.

As the two males went at each other, Boomer was making more progress against Brat. Her breathing was becoming uneven. Her sonic screams were weakening with time.

Boomer knew he was close to winning. One final blow, and he would not have to worry about her anymore. Despite the diluted power of her abilities, Brat's screams were still getting him off balance. If only he could shut her up…

Boomer's eyes went to the blonde's mouth, considering the risky option. After debating for a moment, Boomer exhaled to calm himself. He put all his focus in conjuring up a wave behind him. The water rose higher into the night sky, reaching about twenty feet in height.

With a deep inhale to hold his breath, Boomer sent the tidal wave in Brat's direction. The wave parting around his body as it struck her with no time to prepare. The water suffocating the blonde female as she had her mouth open when the rush of water hit her.

Boomer went over to her quickly. Her eyes were shut and body was absolutely soaked. He hovered his ear over her mouth. She was still breathing. More than Brick was earlier, which was a good sign. Boomer lifted her up, placing her body to sit up against a tree trunk.

He was reluctant to leave her. An heavy sense of responsibility washed over him.

What if he was wrong? What if Brat was not breathing correctly? What if he accidentally killed her?

His lungs felt burdensome in his chest, contracting in an uneven pace. Questions and doubts zoomed through his mind. His hands were beginning to shake uneasily, his knees feeling as if they were going to give out.

Panic swarming around him like a shark circling its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to truly strike.

Boomer had to calm down before losing himself. He tried taking deep breaths, letting the anxious feeling in him expel out of his system.

"Boomer!"

The blond snapped out of his berating thoughts, finding the one voice in which could calm him down calling out for him in need. He turned his neck around, finding Bubbles in a struggle against Ace. Boomer, without any hesitations, pushed his buzzing disquietude about Brat out of his frame of mind, summoning a stream of water and shot it in Ace's direction.

As the thin male evaded his attack, Boomer quickly joined Bubbles' side.

"Two against one?" Ace toyed, backing more into the forest. His chin lowered, his shades falling to the tip of his nose, revealing his pitch black eyes. "Oh what will I do?"

"Stop playing games and just fight already," Bubbles retorted, gritting her teeth together. Her cheeks were flushed from the amount of energy she has burned. Since getting her powers, Bubbles finally felt the dry heat surrounding them, feeling like a popsicle melting under the hot summer sun.

The burning blaze behind her furthered the engrossing warmth, carrying over embers in the air.

"And waste my efforts on the two of you?" Ace shook his head. "I have bigger plans than harming the weakest links of your little group."

"Weakest links?" Boomer questioned, furrowing his eyebrows, taking offense to Ace's words. "I think you've underestimated us."

Boomer and Bubbles made an attack on Ace simultaneously. Water spiraled around the ice spear Bubbles created, aiming straight for Ace's chest. As it was a foot away from the male, a wall of earth rose, getting stabbed by the ice crystal. The water splashed against the hard surface with a thump.

The blondes turned to the individual responsible, finding Butch in a difficult battle amongst Brick before they tried to take down Ace again.

Butch's effort to protect Ace was not one on purpose, as the green-eyed male was trying to create a divide between him and the redhead.

Brick was able to propel himself over the wall by using the fire in his palms as jets. The dark-haired male took a step back but could not go further as Brick trapped him in a ring of fire.

The heat grew with more intensity as Brick got closer to him. The light of the flame illuminated his ruby-colored eyes into a menacing shade. Butch wiped away the sweat he had on his forehead from the ongoing heat. Despite the part of him in which was terrified of what Brick could do, Butch knew he had to stay calm. His senses focused on the acute seismic vibrations underneath them to figure out Brick's next move in order to beat him to it.

Brick was swiftly made aware of what Butch was attempting to do. It was one of the techniques he had tried to teach Butch over the past few weeks without any avail.

"What is Him's endgame tonight, Butch?"

Butch raised an eyebrow, surprised by Brick's decision not to attack. The amber flames in the redhead's hands dimmed down to signal a spare moment of a truce.

"Him simply encouraged Berserk's idea," he confessed. "She wanted to drive you away from the lake."

"Then why grab Blossom?"

"Find out any information she knew."

"But you already knew what Blossom has seen," Brick pointed out. His eyes narrowed at the green-eyed male, not understanding the logic behind their attacks. "And why play your cards all at once? You could have stayed undercover much longer to get more information. Then Ace showing up now… It all seems like a wasted opportunity. Him is too crafty to throw out his secrets all at once like this."

Butch sunk his shoulders, realizing Brick was right. There was something off. "I don't..." He murmured, becoming vulnerable for a moment. "Ace wasn't suppose to be here—"

Brick lowered himself down, sideswiping Butch's legs, knocking the tall male down into the hard pebbles of the beach unexpectedly. A groan escaped Butch's lips as Brick created a cage of fire around him, trapping him for the time being as Butch recovered from his hard fall.

The redhead glanced over to the blondes, preparing to help them but something else caught his eye. He rushed over to the shore of the lake, lending out this hand to Blossom, who was crawling up the shore after swimming a mile and a half to reach land.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly as she took his hand, lifting her up from the ground.

Water dripped back into the lake from her drenched body. Her hair was matted down to her dark clothing and milky skin. Rose-colored eyes looked at him with irritation.

"Please tell me Berserk got what she deserved."

Brick nodded, "And Butch."

Blossom ran her hand through his messy hair, a proud smile painted across her lips. "Brick Jojo, you never cease to amaze me."

He returned a similar expression to her, "All there's left is Ace but—"

Before he could finish, Brick's eyes snapped over to the three others remaining, taking a step forward, creating a firewall to divide Ace from Boomer and Bubbles. The green-tinted male was finally deciding to use his powers. The toxic smoke he was attempting to use, was lost in the smoke of the flames Brick had conjured up.

Brick gave Blossom a single nod before rushing over to the blondes' side as she went back to hiding behind the large rock.

Ruby-colored eyes darted between two shades of blue. "I'm going to let the wall down. When I do, Boomer, you hit Ace first. Then Bubbles, you'll freeze him in place."

"He wouldn't stay," Bubbles warned, remembering the close call with death she almost had with girls when dealing with Ace the last time.

" _I know_ ," the redhead answered. The two blondes exchanged looks and then agreed to Brick's plan.

Brick took a deep breath, motioning to cease the flames. Ace's thin frame becoming visible to them through the lingering embers in the air. Boomer quickly shot a stream of water at him, sending Ace back into a tree. Bubbles followed afterward, freezing the male to the bark of the pine tree. Brick then threw a fireball at the top of the tree, letting it begin to burn above Ace's head.

Ace cackled loudly, his wicked laughter howling against the crackling flames. "Are you trying to kill me, Brick? I thought _Strawberry Shortcake_ changed you." His chin lowered more, the shades on his face falling to his feet, exposing his narrow facial structure to them. "Or is this a secret scheme created by Him for you to follow?"

Brick winced at the mention of Him. An action Boomer took notice of immediately. The blond jabbed Brick's shoulder accusingly, paranoia making a home inside his mind.

"What is he talking about?" Boomer demanded.

"I don't know," Brick mumbled, unable to meet Boomer or Bubbles' stares.

"Are you still working for Him?"

"No! God no!" The redhead answered brashly. "I swear I'm not."

"Bullshit!"

"Boomer, calm down," Bubbles pleaded.

The blond male ignored her, pressing the matter further. "There's a reason why Ace is saying this, Brick."

"Yeah, to toy with us," Brick deflected. "Boomer, I promise. I'm not with Him anymore."

"I don't believe you."

The blonde girl placed her hand on Boomer's shoulder, alerting him to back off. He took a step back reluctantly, not relenting the accusing stare he had for the redhead.

"Brick, please. Just be honest with us," Bubbles whispered.

"I am. Look I—"

Brick paused, tossing his eyes over to Ace. He threw his head back, clutching at his scarlet hair at the sight of Ace's mischievous smirk. Half of the ice containing him already a puddle by his feet. Brick gestured over to the area, reminding the two of the nonexistent cease fire among them.

"He's trying to escape!"

Bubbles reacted quickly, refreezing Ace to the tree. The three closed in on him, forming a semi-circle around the green-tinted male. Boomer sent a apologetic glance Brick's way, muttering a "Sorry" under his breath. The redhead gave him a nod, taking up a fighter stance in front of Ace.

"What is the goal of tonight?" He questioned.

The former Gangreen Gang leader simply grinned at the question. " _To summon the worst in all of us_."

In the distance, the three heard a muffled scream, finding Blossom in the grasp of shadow spirits similar to the ones from Labor Day. Brick turned his back to Ace, throwing fire jabs at the shadows around her. The dark entities vanished into thin air immediately as fire was their ultimate weakness.

However, like before, when they were defeated, more were created.

Brick tried to fight them off but was thrown into the ground. Boomer and Bubbles' bodies landed on top of his' as a bubble formed around them.

"What the…" he grunted, glancing up to see a heavy green gas was over them, blocking their sight.

Boomer pushed the walls of the water outward, distributing the toxic air away from them, only to find the tree holding Ace to be empty.

"Where did he—"

A low whistle alerted them, flicking their eyes to the right of them. Ace had his arms wrapped around Brat's unconscious body. The palm of his hand covered her mouth. A taunting smile plastered across his lips.

"Him wanted at least one casualty tonight," Ace revealed, a little mist of toxins escaping his hand and into Brat's mouth. "He would prefer one of your pathetic lives more." His dark eyes focused on Brick more than the other two. "But a life is a life, and Brat here, just so happened to be at the right place at the right time for me—Not so much for her." He tilted his head to a degree. His eyes watched them like a snake waiting to strike. " _Unless_ , someone would like to take her place."

As the three stood paralyzed by Ace's bargain, Blossom narrowed her eyes from across the beach. Her arms and legs restrained by the shadows hold on her. Oddly enough, they simply wanted to keep her in place instead of dragging her into the lake like they did with Boomer.

They seemed to not want to kill her…

The redhead's eyes widened when she gathered enough detail to realize what was happening. _Ace was going to kill Brat_.

Brat was going to die tonight, just as her visions has shown her.

"Guys, he's going to—"

She was unable to finish as a transparent hand covered her mouth, muffling her words of warning. Blossom tried fighting back against the shadows but their hold was too strong. A tear rolled down her cheek, her conscious taking full responsibility for what was about to happen.

If she did not plan out this failed attempt to take out Him, Brat would not be on the way to death.

If she had listened to Boomer, no one would be losing their life tonight.

If she had taken in regard her visions, Blossom could have predict all of this.

The betrayal. The death. The failure. It was all painted for her in a jagged line.

She was too blinded by the hope of outsmarting Him and the ability to make right in the world. Her optimism got the best of her. The want to take on the responsibility to save everyone, was her fatal mistake.

It was all her fault. She had failed miserably and at a horrifying cost.

"So what will it be?" Ace questioned casually. He lifted up Brat's chin more, showing the trail of smoke from his hand to them. Her body was reacting negatively from the poison, choking on vomit she was unable to spit out. Ace looked down at her with a pathetic stare, "You better hurry up. She doesn't seem to have much time left."

The three exchanged glances, obviously distraught by the decision given to them. If they attacked Ace, he would unleash his poisonous gas on all of them. There was a chance he could use Brat's already weak body as a shield, making them accidentally kill her in the process.

While they could go three against one, Boomer and Bubbles were incredibly feeble from the lost of energy used from their prolonged fighting beforehand. Not to mention, they have to do away with the shadows surrounding Blossom as they were afraid of the chance of the spirits harming her.

There was no simple solution for them. Nothing that would not result in someone not losing their life tonight.

Brick took a shaky breath. Between the three of them, he was the less worthy to live, in his mind. Boomer and Bubbles, they had more to provide to the world. They had people who loved and counted on them. Brick…

He only had Blossom.

She would understand, he told himself. She could find someone so much better than him, anyways. Someone who would not ruin her life like he feared he may.

If he was gone, it would be for the greater good. To protect those who could truly make a difference in the world. Those whose lives would actually have meaning, unlike his.

He took a step forward. His eyes closing for the moment, accepting his fate. For once, his mind grew quiet. No more harmful thoughts flowed through him. He was at peace for the first time in his entire life.

A solemnly breath escaped his lips as he opened his eyes to see Ace's pleased smirk.

Brick was who he _exactly_ wanted to be his victim. The redhead was easily and expectingly following into his role.

He slowly removed his hand from Brat's mouth, when a mass of kinetic energy came rushing towards him, punching his narrow jaw.

Ace grunted loudly against the pebbles of the beach, his arms still wrapped around Brat's limp body. He looked up to find a conscious Berserk standing over him. Her face twisted up in absolute pure rage.

For the first time, Ace found her to be unattractive.

"This was not apart of the plan," she roared.

"I have other plans, Dollface," Ace countered with a smug grin. In Berserk's blind anger, she was unable to calculate the situation well enough as she usual may.

She failed to realize Ace still had a hold on Brat. His smoke infiltrate the blonde's airways again but this time, he did not contain it in a single stream. Instead, he summoned a cloud of toxic gas. The air swirled around Berserk's feet and was making it's way towards the others.

The three began to cough, covering their mouths with the collars of their shirts to help filter out the air.

Boomer arched an eyebrow at the increase of power Ace was using, predicting the green-tinted male was willingly to end all of them tonight, turning to Bubbles and Boomer. "Brick, free Blossom," Boomer choked out desperately, taking steps away from the toxic air. "Bubbles, get Buttercup. I'm going to create a bubble for us by the shore."

" _But I can stop this_ ," Brick murmured, trying to resist the scratching in the back of his throat, staying right in place despite the blondes moving away from him and the smog.

Boomer shook his head, water forming in the corners of his eyes from the gas, casting a look at Ace and Berserk. "I don't think that deal is on the table anymore."

"But what about them?" Bubbles asked. "We can't let them kill each other."

"We shouldn't, but maybe we have to," the blond answered somberly. The smoke inched closer to them the longer they waited to make a move.

The three nodded at each other sorrowfully, dividing in separate directions; failing to realize the fire cage Brick had create for Butch, was now empty. A deep hole carved underneath it.

"I am going to kill you," Berserk threatened. She attempted to tap into her powers but could not. Her throat was beginning to grow itchy. A furious coughing tantrum became of her. She sank to her knees, the thick smog Ace was producing seeping into her lungs. "Ace," she choked out. "I... Will... Kill... You..."

Ace was not fazed by her words, furthering the power of his ability. In a minute, he would have completed Him's task while also taking out a nasty thorn in his side. He was given the unexpected delight of carrying out an act of revenge against the orange-haired girl for not returning his affections due to the likes of buffoonery that was Butch Lumpkins.

He reached out to Berserk, wanting to make sure the last thing she saw before her bitter death, was his face, but the ground beneath her began to move, jerking her backwards into an enclosed triangular rock formation. A wall quickly completed the paneling, keeping her within. The solid surface created a tent from the earth around her body, freeing her from the toxic gas. She traced her hand against the grainy texture, turning behind her to find Butch in the dark space with her.

"Let me out," she breathed, the rash in her throat subduing with the clean air in the tight area.

Butch shook his head. "I'm not letting Ace kill you."

"Butch… Please let me go," her voice trembled. "He's going to kill her. I can't… I can't let that happen. He wouldn't actually kill me. I'm too valuable to Him, and he knows it."

She felt Butch reach out for her hand, gathering his two palms over her's, bring them to his chest. Her body was pulled to his chest because of this action, finding comfort and safety when drawing close to him.

His breath was warm against her forehead. "At this point," Butch mumbled soberly. "We're all expandable to Him."

"She's going to die..." Berserk cried, unwilling to accept the truth in his statement. Ace's previous warning of how disposable Brat and Brute were to Him, replayed in her mind in a taunting manner. She was a fool for going through with tonight. An absolute fool.

She clinged onto Butch's chest, breaking down to her emotional core, forcing herself to accept Brat's fate. The memory of how she was the one to drag the blonde into this mess, was flashed in the forefront of her thoughts.

Brat's death was not just on Ace's hands. It was on her's.

Perhaps, she was the one who truly caused Brat's death.

Outside of the rock tent, Bubbles carried Buttercup's unconscious body to the bubble Boomer was preparing. The gas from Ace grew closer as he continued to poison Brat.

Brick was able to fight off the shadows long enough for Blossom to escape. His hand wrapped around her wrist immediately, leading them over to the others. Once everyone was accounted for, Boomer closed the bubble, submerging them into the water.

With no longer being able to take a look of the surface, they did not get to witness the glowing turquoise light in which sprouted from Brat's chest. Nor did they witness the light floating into the air and zipping over them into the center of the lake.

They, instead, waited in the inky water for five minutes.

It was the longest five minutes in all of their lives. A thick wave of failure and sorrow encased them. The knowledge of letting someone die on their watch, eating away at each one of them in different effects.

Boomer took a heavy breath, leading them out of the lake again. They found the shore to be empty.

The rock tent was left in crumbles. The shadows had all disappeared. Smog was no longer found in the air. The blazing fire from across the lake had ceased to exist. The trees did not even appear to have ever made contact with the inferno. Neither did the tree Ace stood under. No blackened char was left in their place. The crater Buttercup made was gone too, smoothed over with pebbles. It was as if no one had been there. As if a battle between the forces of good and evil had not occurred, leaving the lake in a pristine and untouched condition.

The only thing in which remained was Brat's lifeless body. Her body laid stiff against the pebbles of the beach.

The four remained in silence when they approached her body.

Bubbles, who held onto Buttercup's body the entire time, placed her on the ground behind them. She was unable to stand back up, remaining on her knees when staring at Brat. Bubbles could not stop herself from sobbing, covering her eyes. The paralyzing shock of the night hitting her all at once. Grief submerged her entire being.

Boomer, consumed by the anxious pit in his stomach, threw up, unable to control his body any longer. A flood of remorse washed over him, realizing if he had not placed Brat by the trees, she may have not died tonight. She would not have been an easy target for Ace if he had not done so, Boomer criticized to himself. His throat tinged again as he upchucked more of his demons.

Brick kept a blank face as he looked over Brat's body. His mind full of regret for not taking Ace's deal much sooner. The fleeting thoughts of peace he had settled within himself after deciding on the decision to sacrifice himself, haunted in the back of his mind. A small longing ached in his chest from the wanted to take Brat's place...

Silent tears fell down Blossom's cheeks. Her mind berated herself for not preventing any of this. For believing she could ever stop Him. For allowing Brat to be the victim of the night, when out of everyone, it should have been her.

On the ground behind them, a groan was expelled. Light green eyes fluttered open, scanning the beach, noticing the lack of a dark-haired male and his girlfriend. Her blurry vision, instead, found her four friends', who had their backs to her. A pool of golden blonde hair laid in front of them. The stench of vomit in the air and echoing sound of sniffling.

"Guys," Buttercup spoke, her voice hoarse from just regaining her consciousness.

She grunted a bit, rubbing her jaw where Berserk punched her. She was definitely going to have a huge bruise in a few hours. Not to mention her whole body ached from the fight.

Four pairs of eyes found themselves looking back at her. Two reddened from crying, the other two engrossed with guilt.

" _What the hell happened_?"

* * *

 _November 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Brute's fist pounded against the door frame furiously. Her vision hazy from the endless crying she has done since Brick delivered the news to her.

Princess and her had tried luring Berserk and Brat into their "trap" but the two were a step ahead—which she, now, understood was because of Butch's influence—and locked the two into a bathroom upstairs. It was not until the party ended and the five came looking for them, were they freed.

During this time, Brute took immediate notice to the mutual desolated stares and lacking of another member of the group. Their plan had obviously not worked, she predicted, but then Brick, who was the only one who was able to speak after what happened, explained what had occurred at the lake.

 _Secret underwater bunker…_

 _The bubble burst…_

 _Blossom saved his life…_

 _Butch betrayed them…_

 _Ace had a secret plan…_

 _Brat was murdered…_

Brat was murdered…

Brute could not describe the effect those three words had on her. Something within her, had simply turned off. The world became black. Her mind unable to process anymore.

She had screamed. Cried. Begged for Brick to say he was lying.

None of it changed the fact.

Brat was dead.

And she did not nothing to prevent it.

Princess tried comforting her, but Brute rejected her attempts, needing to get away from everyone. When she left the manor, the others were getting ready to call the police and informing them of a murder caused by a missing member of the Gangreen Gang.

Brute had told Princess that she was simply going to take a walk. She needed to clear her mind. Cry in privacy.

However, as Brute walked down the single road in the "Rich Pines" area of town, she passed by Berserk's home. Her blood boiled, connecting the orange-haired girl's involvement with Him to the very reason why Brat was currently going to be placed into a body bag.

The remembrance of Brat's final words to her flooded her mind. All the blonde truly wanted, was her best friends back. Yet, that could not happen for her, because in Brute's eyes, it was Berserk and her poorly made decisions' fault.

The same ill choices in which resulted in Brat's death.

Brute went into autopilot, forgetting her vow to remain unaffected by her personal hurt feelings inflicted by Berserk, heading over to the French doors leading into Berserk's bedroom, in which had led her to the furious knocking.

She waited a good two minutes, which was added by more pounding against the door, until one of the doors opened. Brute furrowed her eyebrows, not surprised but unpleased to find Butch greeting her instead.

His hair was an absolute mess. His eyes shot and a large wet stained was found on the shoulder of his white tee-shirt. He lacked his white pants from his costume, wearing a dingy pair of sweatpants instead.

He looked emotionally-drained and exhausted.

Not that Brute cared about what state he was in. He did not deserve to feel any remorse for the actions he committed to his friends.

"Where is she?" Brute demanded lowly.

"This isn't the time, Brute," he exhaled.

"I don't give a shit. I want to talk to your girlfriend," she countered venomously.

Butch narrowed his eyes at her, displaying his protective nature towards Berserk. "Leave now before I—"

"Butch…" Brute heard a series of hyperventilation from inside the room before words were strung together coherently again. "It's fine."

"Viv," he murmured with concern as Berserk's hand gently pushed him back, taking a step outside to face Brute.

Her face was bare, removed from any makeup; it was also puffy from crying. Tan cheeks were wet from tears. A fresh bruise was sported on her left cheek; along with a few scattered down her legs combined with scrapes. Her hair was held up in a messy bun. An over-sized grey tee-shirt—which Brute guessed belonged to Butch—covered her body like a dress. The whites of her eyes almost matched the hue of her iris. A little bit of clear snot covered the skin above her upper lip.

It was the most messy Berserk has ever looked.

"Brute," she said quietly. Her voice could no longer holding any strength. There was nothing to be intimidated by. Brute could stare at her and not find a single ounce of fear. In fact, Brute found her to more pathetic than anything. Pathetic for believing she had the right to grieve Brat's death when she played right into Him's trap. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apology. It's not going to bring her back," Brute seethed. Her eyes grew warm again with a new batch of tears. "You are responsible for all of this."

"I know," Berserk breathed uneasily. She shook her head, her eyes lingering on the ground beneath them. "I didn't know Ace was going to… He took advantage of the situation. If I could go back, I would have let it be me instead."

"The world would be a better place if that would have happened."

Berserk nodded slowly, hugging herself. Her shoulders moving slightly as she covered her mouth. A quiet sob becoming of her.

Behind her, Butch placed his hands of her arms from behind to help comfort her. His emerald eyes wallowed over the sight of her tears before shifting to Brute. A hard glare was sent in her direction.

"Are you done here?" He snapped.

Brute's brow furrowed, outraged by his reaction. "Excuse me? My best friend just died because of your girlfriend and you're going to speak to me like that?"

"She didn't know what Ace was planning," Butch defended, removing his hands from Berserk and taking a step forward, shielding the orange-haired girl behind his tall frame. "And if you don't think Viv feels broken up about this as much as you do, then you're just being ignorant."

"I'm being ignorant?" Brute repeated, baffled by his word choice.

He nodded. "Viv loved you both. She would do anything to protect you and Brat. That's the reason why she pushed you away. She wanted to keep you from sharing Brat's fate." Hazel eyes blinked back in a mild shock from Butch's revelation, confirming Blossom's theory was correct in her head as Butch continued. "Fuck, she almost died tonight trying to save Brat. So quit trying to make this about you and the butthurt feelings you have towards Viv," Butch ranted. His voice growing serious, "Not a single person was innocent tonight. Not Viv, not me, not Blossom. Not the gang, not you, not Brat. We all played a hand in what happened and there's nothing we can change. Brat is dead and all we could do now is mourn. So just let Viv grieve without having to feel like an absolute monster like you're trying to make her out to be."

"Butch," Berserk whispered, gently gripping his arm. "You're just making it worse."

Butch opened his mouth to reply but slowly accepted her perspective.

Brute crunched her nose in disgust by what he had to say. She jabbed her finger in the couple's direction. Tears streaming down her face as she spoke, "I don't need to hear about how I need to be mindfully to her feelings from the man who betrayed his friends since elementary school for a good fuck—"

"You have absolutely no clue about anything that is going on, Brute," Butch remarked tiredly.

Brute rolled her eyes, "Right. Like I'm not aware you attacked your friends tonight and allowed Ace to kill Brat because you were too busy protecting your girlfriend. Out of everyone, you had the most capability to stop Ace with your powers but you made the most selfish decision."

"You weren't even there! And if you were, you're too much of a coward to have done anything. So you couldn't have stopped him, and we couldn't do anything because any sudden attack from anyone and Brat would have died from instant contact. Not to mention, Ace was pretty set of murdering everyone if we intervened. No one was going to stop Ace—The others didn't even try! In fact, they were okay with Viv dying at the hands of Ace too," Butch argued abruptly and loudly to make a point. "They hid underwater until it was over. We all had to let Brat die. It just…" he sighed, running a hand through his matted curls. "It's awful it had to happen that way. Or that it even happened. But we can't change it."

Brute shook her head in disbelief, "I don't believe you."

"Of course," he said under his breath, his eyes fluttering with an eye roll, unwilling to see any sense in attempting to change her mind.

Brute settled her eyes on the orange-haired girl beside him. In her mind, she no longer saw the beauty in her. Brute had always known there was an ugliness within Berserk but somehow, that ugliness had oozed out, finding a way to consume her former friend from the inside out.

"How did you not see this coming?" Brute sneered.

Berserk shook her head slowly, "I don't…"

"You played right into their hand. You were too caught up in your ego to even suspect a thing." Her eyes darted over to Butch again. "Or maybe, they saw your weakness. You got too distracted by a _boy_ who will only leave you again when he gets bored. He'll probably run back to Buttercup too."

Butch took a step forward but Berserk blocked him, pushing his chest back with her hand. Hot pink eyes gave Brute a momentary warning glance, becoming territorial.

"This is no longer about Butch anymore."

"He will continue to be apart of this since you corrupted him," Brute accused. "You succeeded in Him's plan for you. _You broke him_ into this psychopath like you are."

Berserk let out a small gasp, clearly affected by Brute's words.

"No…" she murmured, unwilling to believe Brute's words. The hazel-eyed girl wanted to laugh at how feeble she was.

"Berserk, quit with the pity party. You may be acting all depressed and remorseful about what happened, but it's not going to change anything when Him wants both of you to carry out a new order, now is it? Not even when you have to work with Ace again. Or when he is going to make you murder millions. You wouldn't even bat an eyelash, I suspect."

The two remained silent. Brute nodded, seeing them for who they really were. She took a few steps back, repulsed by the very sight of them. The ugliness within them becoming a true reflection for all to see.

"Ace may be the worst humanity has to offer, but at least he doesn't pretend to be something he's not. But you two? You're both full of lies and wicked schemes. You, frankly, are the real villains in my eyes." She gave them one last glance, her voice low and tired. "You truly do deserve one another."

* * *

In a pair of shadowy hands, a turquoise light shined through. A sinister grin watched over the glowing entity, delighted to have acquired it's power.

The first key of chaos was in his grasp.

Soon enough, he would have attained all of them. He would be able to free himself after a century trapped in separation.

His time of reckoning was growing closer. Humanity would perished along with it. Earth would be a relic in the past.

And Him could not wait.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Well, I am certainly glad to have this over with. My mini trilogy in this story took a lot out of me; but this chapter in particular, was one of the most challenging for me. I hope I executed as well as I believed I did. There was a lot of build up from the previous chapters in which I needed in order to get to this point in the story and I am truly grateful for everyone who remained patient with me. I was starting to believe I was not providing enough solid momentum to move along with, but now I truly feel like things will be picking in speed as each characters (except for Ace) have definitely hit their lowest point in this chapter.**

 **Until next time, thank you for taking the time to read my story and please review!**


	12. The History

**Disclaimer: Mentions of suicidal thoughts. Also, I have no beta and this is over 45,000 words long, so there might be a few grammatical mistakes here and there that I did not catch. Thank you for bearing with me and please enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 _July 3rd_

 _Myrtle Beach, South Carolina_

 _4 months ago..._

She was nineteen today. One more year of being a teen.

Blossom should be excited. She should be celebrating. She was about to be considered an adult soon. The idea of it was something she has looked forward to for years.

She has always wanted to be older than she actually was. When Blossom turned ten, she wanted to be fifteen. When fifteen came around, Blossom was vying to be eighteen. Eighteen arrived and she looked towards twenty-one.

Blossom has spent most of her life focused on the future. How she would get there. What would she have accomplished by then. Who would she be with.

The premise of wanting to enjoy her current age was often unfounded. Why would she want to be stuck in motion for one moment, when there were too many to look forward to? There was no reason to stop and smell the roses when a full rose garden of her own was destined down the path.

That was how she has seen the process of aging. There was always going to be something bigger and better for her to admire than what was going on in her life.

On her nineteenth birthday, Blossom has changed her mind. She wished for the past. To be fifteen again and not have a single responsibility to worry about other than school and what to wear to Otto's on Friday night. A time when she still had her innocence and friends.

When she had a future worth dreaming of.

It was ironic to her considering how much she hated the idea of dwelling on the past. _Keep moving forward, right?_ Well, when was there a time to hit the brakes? When was she able to take a moment to herself and reset?

There were so many thing she wished she could change. Moments to relive and enjoy more. Time has flown by her and Blossom was not even aware of it until it was too late.

Now she was stuck in a hotel room alone, eating a grocery store jumbo cupcake she was not even going to eat a quarter of and was more dry than the desert air in Townsville, while watching an unfunny episode of _The Office_ on cable.

It was the second birthday she had without her former friends and the pain of their deceased friendship has never gotten any better with time. More than ever, she needed them.

But she was alone as she has forced herself to be. Her decisions have led her to be without anyone by her side.

Blossom has never wanted to live in the present. The future seemed too intimidating to her now. Reliving the past was far more tempting than ever. It was a comforting hug to the miserable isolation she felt. The present, however, never intrigued her. Especially at this moment.

Her current time was something she never wished to experience or want to repeat.

Blossom simply wondered when time would ever be on her side. When would she be satisfied with how her life was? Did she already live through the glory days of her life or was there a better future for her after all?

She has yet to figure out the answer...

* * *

 _November 1st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

It was her fault…

There was blood on her hands. It was under her nails and stained in the cracks of her palms... Well actually, figuratively, _it was_. The physicality of the night was actually caused by a silent killer of carbon monoxide.

But that was beside the point.

She should have been more careful. She should have _saw_ this coming.

The moments… Ace's oppressive use of his powers; Brat's lifeless body; how helpless Blossom felt watching everyone scramble with making decisions.

If only she was useful. The one aspect she had been able to contribute to the group, was what got them in this mess.

It was what brought Brat to her death.

Blossom gripped on the blanket she was wrapped in. Her body shivered violently from the devastating emotions she felt taking over her body.

She wanted to cry but her body ached already from the sobbing she did on the way back to Princess' mansion.

From when Brick was the only one courageous enough to tell Princess and Brute what had happened.

Brute… the anguish she shown. The pleading she desperately made to Brick for a different reality… It truly wrecked Blossom even more.

Brat did not deserve to die.

It should not have been her.

Perhaps it should have been Blossom instead since she caused for the night to even happen...

Blossom inhaled and exhaled heavily. Her breathing coming out in short hyperventilation.

Even now, she was useless. Brick and Buttercup were calling the police to inform them of Brat's body. Princess was attempting to cover up her grief by busying her mind with helping the staff to clean up the aftermath of the Morbucks' Halloween party. Boomer—the same Boomer who had the worst panic attack Blossom had witnessed from him on the way back to Princess' home—was able to put himself together enough to help get Bubbles to eat something.

This was not her. She could not be someone who sat idly by while life went on. Yet… Brat's death had paralyzed her. Sure, it had happened a couple of hours ago but Blossom knew something changed within her.

Her trust in herself was gone.

She spent a whole summer trying to regain the ability to believe she was capable of making logical and sound decisions again without getting ahead of herself. Now, Blossom was here. Another mistake made by her.

Except this one had ghastly results.

Blossom should learn. Why could she not learn?

Why did she keep failing?

"Hey. Is there room for two under that blanket?"

Blossom freed herself from her thoughts, looking up to find Boomer standing before her. She nodded her head slowly, opening up the blanket for him. He slid in next to her on one of Princess' couches in her game room. The velvety, soft mink material wrapped around his shoulders tightly.

"How… How are you holding up?" Blossom asked quietly.

She shivered to herself, hugging her body to gather more heat. Even with Boomer next to her, Blossom felt like a tundra.

"I honestly…" Boomer trailed off, running a hand through his shoulder length blond hair. "I don't even know how I'm not still puking my guts out at the lake. I've never been _that_ bad. Not even when my dad left…" His voice dipped low into a whisper. "I'm sorry you and the others had to see me like that. I usually try to keep it to myself but after everything, I… I just broke…"

Blossom reached out for his hand, cupping her's over his. "You don't have to apologize."

The blond took in a deep inhale, "I never been this anxious before, Blossom. Even before tonight, I've been overthinking the simplest things. And it's been hard for me to keep sane. Like right now, my brain is telling me that you probably think I'm a piece of shit for talking about my anxiety instead of Brat. That I shouldn't be making this night about myself but I feel so… _guilty_ for everything. I put her by the tree, Blossom!" Boomer said in a hush exclamation. "Ace got her because of my decision. Because I can't ever do anything right. It's… God, I rather be puking again than to sit here and think about what happened..."

Blossom remained mum for a moment. Her eyes danced over to Brick and Buttercup who were in a deep discussion. To Bubbles who was staring blankly at one of the pristine ivory walls of the room. Her heart uncontrollably ached from the acknowledgment of Butch's absence.

"You aren't to blame, Boom," Blossom murmured. "And I don't think you're a bad person for thinking of what you could have done differently. I've been doing the same. I… I should have listened to you. You were right about everything. And I shouldn't have ignored what you had to say. If I had taken your advice, then maybe we wouldn't be here. Maybe Brat would be alive…"

"I don't think so," Boomer muttered. "Perhaps it would not have happened tonight, but Brat… I just have this feeling from whatever I haven't puked out from my gut that Brat…" Boomer glanced down at the ground. His voice barely audible to Blossom. "She was destined to die. I don't know why I do but I can't shake the feeling no matter what I have told myself for the past hour."

Blossom tilted her head to an angle. Brat did die in other timelines. The alluding to it was a warning Blossom failed to truly acknowledge, but perhaps it was also a telling sign there was no way to stop it from happening.

"...That could be."

Ocean blue eyes gave her face a once over before darting across the room, focusing entirely on another redhead. His shoulder tapped into her's gently.

"I think you should keep an eye on Brick."

Blossom arched an eyebrow. Her lips pressed together in an unsatisfied line.

"You don't trust him anymore, do you?" She said flatly. Her overprotective side flashing out like it was second nature to her.

"When my head is clear, I do trust him," Boomer responded after a beat. "But when things get messy in here," the blond knocked against his head lightly. "Then I start to get paranoid about Brick still working for Him." Blossom opened her mouth to refute Boomer's notion but he spoke before her. "But that's not what I meant by you keeping an eye on him."

"Then what did you mean?"

Boomer's face seemed to shift. He was already solemn to begin with but something within he seemed more somber. His sharp features becoming more pronounce; his lips pursed lightly before he let out a heavy sigh.

"Ace… He was going to spare Brat if me, Bubbles, or Brick were going to trade places. And Brick…" The blond hesitated for a moment with continuing on. "Brick was willing to be the one to take the fall. Even after Berserk interfered and Ace was distracted." Ocean blue eyes connected with rose-colored ones. It was an establishment of support shared between them. "Blossom. He was okay with dying tonight. He was willing and vocal about sacrificing himself. I'm worried about the head-space he may be in. I know when Brick gets down, his mind can get pretty dark. And I thought things have been better with him because of you but after tonight, I think it's clear he's not in a good place."

Blossom's gaze went to her boyfriend.

The thought of him dying…

She never expected someone to feel like home before but he has become such a feeling for her.

From the moment they met, Blossom knew she was meant to be with him. It was not hard for her to recognize the scars they shared. The understanding and trust they had for each other. Falling for him was no chore. It was innate for her. It was like breathing in a constant breath of relief. Her body and senses would become secure with the very thought of him. He was the person who made Blossom feel at peace.

Finding him was the best thing she has ever done in her life.

The possibility of losing him was sickening.

Blossom had saw him sacrifice himself once already. She did not need to see it again. He almost drowned to his death earlier in the night, and Blossom was sure she would have lost it if the worse did happen to him then.

She loves him too much to allow it to happen.

The redhead widened her eyes for a moment at the trail of her thoughts.

She _loves_ him?

As the question raced across her mind, Brick had glanced over to her. It was obvious his mind was all over the place but from a small look at Blossom, it grew calm. A gentle smile tugged on his lips. Ruby-colored eyes faltered to a tenderness for a quick moment before he returned to his conversation with Buttercup.

It was such a simple action he had done but that one glance made Blossom come to the answer of her question.

Of course, she loves him. Blossom was completely in love with Brick that it was impossible for her to find any reason for why she should not be.

She knew it should have been expected. There were other timelines in which allowed her to know they were going to fall for each other but Blossom wanted to come to terms with it on her own. Now, Blossom understood the reason why she subconsciously found her way to him in each timeline.

In all of the chaos, he kept her sane, and she did the same for him. He would do anything for her and she would stop at nothing to protect him.

It was strange. To have the fluttering, oozy feeling of love being so remarkable strong during a time in which she should be nothing but a mass of anxiety, fears, and grief. Yet, Blossom could not prevent herself from feeling such a way whenever in the presence of Brick.

That was why the knowledge of Brick being willing to die was such a heavy blow to her. Blossom knew she had to be there for him. To be attentive but respectful to the emotions he may express to her. She had to be supportive of him in any way she could.

Anything to keep Brick alive, Blossom was going to commit to.

Blossom tossed her eyes back to Boomer. She squeezed his hand. A small grateful smile expressed off of her lips.

"I promise I'll keep an eye on him."

"Good," Boomer breathed.

The redhead looked on to see him cast his stare over to Bubbles. The blonde was still in the same, emotionless state from a few minutes ago.

"I'm worried about her too," Blossom said quietly.

Boomer's body tensed up for a moment before mellowing back to normal. A heavy breath escaped his lips once again.

"She's been distant lately with everyone. More than Buttercup is trying to be. I don't know what Bubs is going through but this is definitely not going to help her at all. I'm afraid…" Boomer paused. He removed his hand from Blossom's hold, using it to tap his knee anxiously. "I'm afraid we're going to lose her. Not as in her dying physically but maybe emotionally? I don't know. All I know is Bubbles has not been herself for awhile now and it's been hurting me to watch her like this. I wish I could do more to help but what am I good for? I would just screw up and make things worse. I always do."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"Boom, out of all of us, you have made the least amount of mistakes," Blossom pointed out. "Perhaps it's because you overthink everything but you have not really made anything turn into an utter disaster. You think you do because, you know, _overthinking_."

"...Tonight was a disaster I caused," Boomer murmured after a beat. His head hung low as he spoke.

"No. Tonight would have been a disaster we could have avoided if I had simply listened to you," Blossom countered but it did not seem to change any feelings for Boomer. "Boomer, look at me."

"Blossom, I don't—"

"Boomer, please."

The blond reluctantly obeyed, peering into her eyes. The ocean within his eyes seemingly begged to stream out water as his lip quivered a little. Blossom reached out, caressing his cheek.

"You, Boomer Hardly, were not responsible for tonight. You were just being a team player and carried out a plan you didn't agree to. And Brat… Ace would have grabbed her because she was the closest person to him. Not because you made it easier for him. He would have gotten Berserk instead if she was closer. Or Buttercup. Maybe even Butch..." She listed. Her voice growing lower as time went on as the thoughts of many other devastating scenarios were conjured up in her mind. She shook her head a little to do away with those images, forcing herself to continue on. "Either way, Ace was out to kill anyone tonight. Therefore, you are not responsible for her death. _You_ , at least, tried to protect her. You cared about her well being even after she spent the night attacking you, and that says a tremendous amount about your character, Boomer. Alright?"

Boomer swallowed a hard lump in his throat. He gave her a small nod. His arms enveloped around her body, sinking his head into her shoulder as he pulled Blossom into a tight hug. A quiet cry was released from him.

"Thank you…" Boomer whispered. A wet spot was developing on the shoulder of Blossom's shirt but she did not care. Instead, she wrapped her arm around Boomer, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "Thank you for trying, Bloss. I know," He took a moment to hyperventilate and calm himself down. "... I know I'm not going to be okay but you are making me feel better right now. I want you to know that. You've always tried to make me feel normal and… _Thank you_. Thank you for being you, Blossom."

"Anytime," the redhead said gently to him.

Grief was a funny thing. One moment, Blossom wanted to lock herself away and remain that way until New Year's. Stay in isolation until the new time loop began.

The other part wanted her to take blame. She wanted to fetishize the guilt she felt. The sadness enveloping her for not doing better. For constantly making mistakes without giving herself time to grow.

She wanted to sink down with the rock tied to her neck. Her thoughts wanted to make her out to be the real villain. To convince her that it should have been her instead of Brat. To be filled to the brim with anger and remorse.

Yet Boomer reminded her to not behave in such a way. The words she spoke to calm him down and reassure him, needed to be heard by her too. For her to see that wishing she could swap places with Brat out of the guilt drowning her, was not going to get her anywhere. In fact, it would ruin her in a toxic mind state. She needed her mourning to be nothing but healthy for her. To where she would not lose touch with who she was.

She needed to cope in a better way. One that would benefit her and only her.

Helping others and being a source of affirmation was the way. It was how she would be able to heal her heart. To push her to fix the world they were in.

To help make sure Brat's death did not happen for the sake of it happening.

She had to find hope in the moment. It may just be a tiny amount but she needed it to keep herself going.

That was how she would able to save the others. It was how she wanted to mourn Brat.

It was how Blossom was going to save her from herself.

* * *

 _November 7th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Brat had been dead for a week.

A week in which it felt like time moved slower than normal in town. There was a dark cloud looming over the heads of the citizens of Townsville. Some were still wearing black to mourn the blonde's short life. Others were preparing a memorial candlelight walk through town in her honor. Plenty visited Ms. Fatale in the past seven days, checking on her well being and leaving her with a fridge full of food made from their sympathy for her. The whole town had attended Brat's funeral a few days ago. It was a much more somber event than many had predicted.

Parents in town were on high alert. The idea of how this could have also happened to their own child made an unprecedented impact. Curfews had become stricter. No one was permitted to visit the lake anymore. Some were not even allowed to leave their house for anything but school.

Townsville had quickly lost any ounce of joy it had.

The redhead knew, more than ever, Him had to be stopped. Him was inching closer to his endgame and Blossom did not want Brat's death to be in vain. For her fate to be the first step in Him's larger scheme. She wanted to keep on fighting so no one else would end up like Brat.

Blossom wanted to keep fighting because the guilt and responsibility of Brat's death motivated her to do better. To make a change. To save the world.

It was warped to find a good out of the events in which has transpired but Blossom had to.

Her determination to continue on with stopping Him did have roadblocks. One was Blossom's lack of trust in her abilities to lead. It was under her guidance and advisory that they went to the lake on Halloween. She was the one who dismissed any objections or notions of caution Boomer had presented to her. Her overzealous need to fix the Him problem had overcame any logical thoughts she could have made.

It was not the first time she has done so. Her mind flashed back to Henry but she quickly dismissed any thoughts about him and her past.

Another stoppage was the lack of cooperation from her friends to engage in any new discussion about Him.

As she and Brick sat across from Boomer and Buttercup in a booth at Otto's, Blossom's picked up on the unresolved tension between. With Butch's betrayal and the mixed emotions about what happened at the lake, the fractures within the group were more noticeable than normal.

When Bubbles came by with a coffee pot to refill Buttercup and Brick's mugs, the redhead even picked up on how the blonde did not express any want to mingle. She did not even attempt to cheer up the four of them as she would on any other occasions she saw her friends in a distressed state. Instead, Bubbles radiated a colder aura. She was icing all of them out. Isolating herself from them.

"So…" Blossom said awkwardly after some time. Bubbles had left their table a few seconds ago to refill more coffee mugs around the diner. Green and blue eyes looked at her with indifference. "Are we going to talk about anything?"

She watched as Boomer fiddled with his fingers as Buttercup took a spill of her black coffee.

A lingering yellowish-blue bruise graced her jaw on the right side from the intense punch Buttercup took from Berserk at the lake. It was the first time in the week she did not have it cover-up with makeup. Small but still raw cuts and scrapes decorated her knuckles, becoming more noticeable as she gripped tightly on the porcelain coffee mug in her hands. Out of all of them, Buttercup sported the most physical wounds from their battle on Halloween.

Who had the most emotional scars, however, was still up to debate...

Next to Blossom, Brick waited for a response from the two along with her.

"About that, Blossom…" Boomer trailed off uneasily. "We've been talking," His ocean blue eyes went to Buttercup's before continuing, "And we think it's best if we—"

Boomer could not finish his sentence as the door to the diner opened. Buttercup's eyes flashed with bright rage. Her hand slammed the mug full of coffee she held onto the table. Droplets of the dark, hot liquid landed onto the surface from the quick motion. The blond next to her sunk down into the booth, not wanting to make eye contact with whoever entered the diner. His chest was moving at a quick pace, Blossom noticed before craning her neck around to see who caused such a reaction.

Her rose-colored eyes instantly connected with Butch's emerald ones.

She wanted to express the same amount of fury Buttercup did. When she looked at him, Blossom wanted nothing more than to hate him but she could not.

Instead, all Blossom could feel was _sorrow_. Her heart hurt from Butch's decision. From the years they spent together as friends thrown away in an instant once again.

Grief was known to be experienced in stages and Blossom felt her and her friends could be an example for such. Buttercup was at the stage of anger and has been for weeks now since her break up with Butch; Boomer, with his inability to meet Butch in the eye and the stark, despondent frown on his lips, was more saddened by Butch than anything; Blossom, despite her best wishes, was in denial; and Brick, with his narrowed stare but lack of conveying any objective emotions showed his acceptance to Butch's actions.

Butch's eyes never broke away from Blossom's stare as he made his way to the table in which the four shared. The redhead could practically hear Buttercup's jaw grinding together as he stopped in front of their booth.

"Blossom," he said calmly. "Can I speak to you for a moment?" Butch glanced around at the ranging faces from his former friends, easily picking up on the mutual dislike towards his presence. "Outside? _And alone_?"

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. He wanted to speak to her? About what? What did they have left to say?

He had made his decision; therefore, Butch should know they no longer should be on speaking terms. No matter how disheartening it was for her to acknowledge the fact, Blossom knew she should not talk to him.

But then her nasty trait of being ever so curious popped it's head in her mind. The fact he made the risky move to speak to her when in front of everyone, showed how important whatever he had to say must be. And also considering he wanted to talk to her and only her, made Blossom _have_ to know what it was.

Perhaps it would be beneficial to her. It could be about Him. There was a chance it could be a well needed dose of closure for their friendship.

Or the redhead was trying to convince herself it was okay to speak to him as her mind was unwilling to accept the reality where Butch was not trustworthy. Her gut, unexpectedly, was telling her to reconsider what she had to believe.

Blossom nodded at him once, rising to her feet. "Fine," she replied in a short manner, heading for the door without making sure he was following. She did this more for the fact of not wanting to face Brick or Buttercup's reaction to her choice.

"Are you kidding me?" Buttercup hissed, attempting to chase after Blossom but was held back by Boomer who was blocking her from escaping the booth to begin with.

The blond pushed her back down into the vinyl leather seating, quietly surprising her—and mildly impressing her—by his strength to do so. He was a lot stronger than his lanky appearance led on. His ocean blue eyes stared at her intensely.

"We don't need to make a scene."

"What are you—" Buttercup glanced around the restaurant, finding some in the diner were subtly watching their table. Their invasive stares evaporated her outrage quickly.

Any chance of the other Townsville natives finding their group in any questionable moments was incredibly lethal to them at the moment.

After the phone call Buttercup and Brick made to the police, Ace held most of the public blame for Brat's death. It was mainly derived from: one, his disappearance during the Gangreen Gang arrests; two, Brat's cause of death being similar to Elmer's attack from the Gangreen Gang a few weeks ago; and three, it was an easier narrative to paint a former gang leader as a murderer than the other options available.

The other options being Buttercup and her friends.

There was a slight suspicion made towards them since they were the ones who called the police and were reported for doing so in the town's newspaper. All them―except for Blossom, strangely―were accounted for in the article released the day after. Because of it, a belief of foul play made by the group was an unpopular opinion but it was still a whisper spreading around town.

If Townsville did not already pay attention to them, they surely were now.

With the warily looks from around the diner, Buttercup found Boomer to be right. If she went out and ranted to Butch about things being his fault, onlookers would get the wrong idea and start spreading more accusations at them.

"Right," she muttered to herself, folding her arms. Her light green eyes peered out the window next to her with disdain as she kept an eye on the two in the parking lot. "But that doesn't mean I'm okay with her coercing with the backstabber."

"None of us are," Brick said before taking a quick sip of his coffee. Buttercup instantly spotted his white-knuckle grip on the mug he was holding. He may be able to verbalize his lack of emotions, but his body language gave away how he truly felt about the situation. "But Blossom's allowed to do whatever she wants."

Buttercup arched an eyebrow, "Blossom also can make some pretty fucked up choices that she hasn't learned from yet."

Ruby-colored eyes went to the window, keeping a steady focus on the two, unable to hear anything said between them. "I know, Buttercup."

Blossom was unaware of the watchful eyes gazing at her from the window as she had her attention on Butch. She waited for him to speak. For him to explain what was so important. To see if her gut was wrong or not.

However, Butch remained mum. He stood quietly, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The skin of his muscular arms were covered in small, faint bruises from his fall into the pebbles of the lake's beach. His emerald eyes glued to the clear skies above them.

The redhead narrowed her eyes at him, feeling as if this was another trick made by him. A way to leave her vulnerable again until he or someone else attacked her.

"Butch, can you quit playing games?" She huffed out tiredly. "After what you did, I don't think it's appropriate for you to continue wrecking my heart."

He did not reply as he continued to stare up at the sky.

Blossom ran a hand through her hair, unsure on what to do next. Should she leave? Butch obviously seemed to have nothing to say.

"I'm going to go—"

She stopped as Butch grabbed her wrist to get her attention. His other hand was used to point up at the sky as an airplane was flying over the diner to reach it's destination.

"Have you ever been to the airport in Citiesville?"

Blossom nodded hesitantly. Her face displayed the great amount of confusion she held. " _Yeah_ …"

He glanced down at her. A sly grin tugged on his lips. His hand released her's as he picked at his short, dark ringlets. "There's this road behind the airport that I like to go to sometimes—I think Brick showed it to me back in high school. But anyways, I _really_ like going there to clear my mind and make sense of everything."

"Okay?"

Blossom knew of the road. It was the same one Brick had taken her down when they got _Dairy Queen_ and hung out in the back of his truck.

"You should go there sometime," he said in a friendly tone. With how he was behaving, Butch made it seem like nothing had happened between them. " _Especially_ during sunset. It is quite indescribable to look at."

Blossom tilted her head to a degree, not comprehending what angle he was using. Her thoughts were clinging on to the irrational.

Did he want her to go there alone and then him and Berserk would attack her? Was that how they would get rid of her?

"Sure…" Blossom whispered, making the mental note to not go back there ever again but also to make sure Brick did not either. "Is that all?"

"Yup," he grinned. Two of his fingers went to his forehand as he gave her a salute before heading towards his car. "See you around."

Blossom remained in place as she watched him drive off. Her mind was puzzled by the entire interaction.

 _I like going there to clear my mind and make sense of everything_ …

She did not know why those words stood out to her the most. Blossom found it strange of him to provide her with the reasoning as to the importance of the location to him. If it was a trap, the sunset proposition should have been enough to appeal to her. The other explanation seemed unnecessary to her.

Blossom did not expect for this to be what he needed to discuss; and now, she had more questions than she originally had before talking to him.

* * *

 _March 11th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _1 year ago…_

Her mom practically pounced on her when she came home. Blossom was not even able to get her schoolbag off when her mom grabbed a hold of her wrist. A large white envelope was in her hand as she dragged Blossom into the kitchen.

She handed the envelope over—actually, more like shoved it into Blossom's hands. An excited expression was dancing across her elegant face.

Blossom examined the envelope. Her fingers traced over the cardinal red stigma for MIT in the corner of the crisp white paper.

 _Thick envelope meant_ …

"Open it, honey," her mom pushed. She was barely able to contain herself from ripping it up herself.

Blossom took a deep breath, ignore the leering eye of her mother. Two of her fingers slide under the envelope gently, opening the fold cleanly. She took out a thick folder in which was stuffed into the envelope. A thin paper with heavy writing laid on top.

 _Congratulations Blossom Bellum…_

She did not read the rest. Her eyes grew watery as she glanced up at her mom.

"I got in," Blossom whispered with a soft smile.

"Oh baby," her mom cooed. A proud grin on her face as she wrapped her daughter into a strong hug. "I always knew you were made for bigger things."

Blossom pulled back, still remaining in her mom's hold. A bashfully laugh escaped from her lips. Her cheeks were stained with tears of joy.

"I'm going to MIT," she said to herself. The reality not having sunken in yet. "I'm going to MIT, mom! I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," her mom commented. Her hand went to smooth down her daughter's hair. "I'm so proud of you, Blossom. You're going to get out of here. I don't have to worry about you being stuck in Townsville anymore."

Blossom nodded, pleased to know she did not have to worry about the thought of being contained in Tonwsville's strong grip any longer. She was finally going to be free. Just as her and her mom have always planned for her. Her acceptance letter was simply the beginning of her journey to discover the world.

In a few months, she would be starting a new life on the opposite side of the country. The thought of that electrified Blossom. There was no way for her to mask the elation she felt. Nor was the amount of her that would impatiently wait until the day of her departure to come.

Although, Blossom did know she was going to dread the day she had to break the news to her friends. She had broken the pact they made and Blossom was not sure what the repercussions of her actions would spiral into.

For the day though, Blossom was going to look forward to the future she has been striving towards, for what seemed like, her entire life. Today, Blossom was going to focus on the positives of what was to come.

She was optimistic for whatever may be thrown her way.

* * *

 _November 8th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

It was strange to behave as if nothing had happened. For her to feel so aimless while her professor droned on about genetic coding to his night class. She glanced around to her few classmates. All of them oblivious to the impending doom surrounding them.

In a way, she wanted to feel envious of them. To not be included in the wicked schemes of Him. To be allowed to go on with life not having to worry about an inter-dimensional demon and what way he was going to kill them all. They could do whatever they wanted without any consequences for the time being. Until Him finally succeeded in his plan to bring hell on Earth.

She should be jealous of them. But when it came down to it, Blossom felt more responsible than anything. As if she had to be the one to save them from their unknown demise.

It was confusing for her. One side determined she was unfit to lead anyone. The other wanted to continue on with the fight against Him.

Her grief from Brat's death was taking shape into different forms.

There was no way she could give up, Blossom told herself for the thirtieth time that the week. It was impossible. Even if she tried. Her need to take care of others overpowered the part of her that was in doubt.

The ever growing questions looking for answers that fueled her innate curiosity, beat out the knowledge of how the end may be coming soon. An end in which, did not favor her and her friends.

Blossom spent most of her class period, trying to wrap her head around what could be done. If it was appropriate for her and the others to move forward after Brat. If there was anything they could do differently.

She wished there was more for her to know. More to make sense of why they were thrown into this. Another correct point Boomer made, was how they lacked in an definitive knowledge on how to stop Him.

When Blossom thought about it, there was very little they actually _did_ know. Sure, Brick had the slightest clue to what had happened in some timelines; but given Him's choice to selectively repair his memory, it was hard to determine what it all meant.

For instance, why did they even have powers? What determined what abilities they got? Why would Him use Brick each and every time as a pawn when, given previous timelines, it never worked in his favor? What were the keys of chaos he needed and how did Him get them?

Then there was one question Blossom has been having a hard time finding any answers to. Each time left her frustrated by the lack of clues that came to her.

 _What was the point of the time loop?_

From what Blossom could see through her visions, there were never any signs of the tides changing. Each one made Him look to be close to becoming victorious.

If the time loop was to ensure Him came out of this with his plan achieved, then why has it taken Him this many times to do so? With her visions, it seemed like Him would have achieved his goals a hundred and sixteen timelines ago.

There was something they were missing, she concluded.

A forty minute class period came and went as did her ideas and questions. When her professor dismissed the class, it was then when Blossom realized she zoned out for the entire lecture. Her rose-colored eyes read over a whiteboard full of descriptions she did not have current knowledge about. She quickly took a photo of the board in hopes to dissect the information on her own time before packing up her belongs.

Outside of the classroom, she walked along the outdoor breezeways of the community college. Blossom had one more class for the night but after the long brainstorming session she had, the redhead felt it was best to head home as an incoming migraine was formulating.

While making her way to the parking lot, Blossom spotted a familiar face in the distance.

"Buttercup!" She shouted out.

The dark-haired girl was standing by a classroom door, waiting for her own class to begin. Her focus was on a phone in hand until Blossom called out her name. She shoved her phone in the back pocket of her black jean shorts. Her face remained neutral as Blossom approached her.

"Hey," the redhead greeted nicely. "What class are you waiting for?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, groaning, "Some required bullshit humanities class I put off last year."

Blossom scrunched up her nose, feeling Buttercup's pain. In her opinion, pre-requisite classes were never worth the time and effort. Of course, Blossom did give all of her time and effort into them, but she did not enjoy it. Not one bit.

Thankfully, she got most of her's done in high school with college equivalent classes. By her first semester at MIT, she had only one required class outside of her major to do. From that one experience, she fully understood Buttercup's displeasure.

"At least the semester is almost over," Blossom presented as a solution.

Buttercup arched an eyebrow. Her fingers hooked onto the straps of her backpack. A light snort of disagreement was made by her.

"Yeah. If we can make it past the New Year without a new time loop," Buttercup chuckled wryly. "You know, that might be why I hate this class so much. I've taken it a hundred and seventeen times now."

"But it should help you. The information must already be up there," Blossom tapped her finger against her own head. "Somewhere."

Buttercup shook her head. "Nah. I'm flunking."

"What? Why?" Blossom exasperated. Her eyes widened.

Buttercup has never been entirely motivated when it came to academics. Like Butch, she barely graduated high school. When Blossom found out Buttercup had made the decision to attend the community college, she thought things had changed for Buttercup.

Blossom, at least, hoped she had.

"Eh," Buttercup shrugged. "At first, I blew off the assignments because I didn't want to do them. Then we found out about the time loop and I was like, ' _What's the fucking point now_?'. After that, Butch broke up with me and my motivation to do anything was at an all time low. Now I'm back to seeing no point in doing any work since it's all going to be restarted again. Or we're all going to die. Either way, I don't see a reason for trying."

"But you're here. You must see some point in it if you're still going to class."

"That's because I don't want to be stuck home with my mom while she catches up on her soap operas. Ever since my dad, it doesn't take much to make her a blubbering mess."

"Buttercup," Blossom said in a disapproving manner.

Buttercup put up her hands defensively. Two of her fingers on each side were still hooked onto the straps of her backpack.

"What?" Buttercup took a moment to take in a deep breath. She bent down a little to be at Blossom's height. Her light green eyes stared into Blossom's like a laser. "Bloss, I hate to break it to you but none of this matters anymore. Just accept it already."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. Buttercup wanted to give up. The most stubborn out of them, wanted to throw in the towel.

"No," Blossom said firmly. Her head shaking a little at Buttercup's notion. "We still have a chance to fix this. We can make sure Brat's death was not in vain. If we just get together and make a new plan–a _better_ plan, we can—"

"Blossom," Buttercup interrupted harshly. Her eyes narrowed at the redhead. "It's over. We loss and whatever you come up with next, it's going to have the same results. You need to realize that."

"But…" Blossom trailed off.

Her rose-colored eyes went straight to her feet. There was not much she could think of to rebuttal with. She did not have a plan to convince Buttercup otherwise. She did not have the slightest clue as to where to even begin a new plan.

All she had was hope. Blinded or not, she had hope that things would turn around for them.

"It's time to give up," Buttercup said quietly as her professor opened the door to the classroom, allowing their students in. "I know I have."

Blossom did not respond, letting Buttercup leave her out in the breezeway in favor of her humanities class.

She stood alone in mild shock. Blossom felt let down by Buttercup.

It made Blossom question where she was left now. What did this mean for her?

Buttercup had valid points. Words in which Blossom knew she should accept.

Yet she wanted to keep fighting. There had to be a way to stop all of this. A way for them to prevail. She just needed to sort out her head first. Then maybe, _just maybe_ , things would begin to clear up for her.

* * *

 _November 9th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

 _Jonathan Utonium's journal._

Blossom had awoke to the single remembrance. A crucial piece of knowledge that could help her gain more of an understanding on Him and his schemes.

She has neglected to take a good look at it due to Brick spending a couple of weeks translating the text from French to English for her in a separate notebook. The other weeks, she was too focused on the Halloween plan.

Another mistake she had come to realize.

With the knowledge that the journal was at Brick's and he was about to leave for work in forty minutes, Blossom rushed out of her bed. She did not bother with changing out of the tank top and sleeper shorts she wore. Instead, she quickly brushed her teeth and combed through her bedhead of orange hair. As she slipped on a pair of sandals, grabbed her wallet and keys, Blossom was out the door before her mom even noticed.

She drove faster than she normally liked, hoping to better her odds in catching Brick before he left. It typically took her thirty minutes to get to his house but on this morning, she was there within seventeen.

Blossom let out a sigh of relief when she spotted his truck parked in place. She quickly did the same with her car, exiting and locking it.

She gave his door a subtle knock. Her foot tapped lightly as she waited. She knocked again when there was no response. This time, working better than the last.

The door cracked open as Brick revealed himself from behind the door. His short scarlet waves were tousled from his night's rest. A yawn escaped from his lips while he stretched his back. His eyes were squinting at her to adjust to the bright morning sunlight. A hand went to rub his right eye to relieve the irritation it felt.

"Blossom? What are you doing here?" He greeted, his voice more deeper than normal.

It had a certain grit to it. That and his Cajun accent came out more naturally. 'What are you doing here?' sounded like 'Wha are ya doin' hare?' instead. His drawl was much slower and bit stuck in his throat.

Blossom would comment on how she found his accent to be cute. Or question as to why he made such an effort to stop himself from speaking in his native dialect.

Instead, she was focused on something entirely different.

Her mind was completely flustered by the sight of Brick not having a shirt on. The first time she has ever witnessed such a thing.

It was ridiculous and Blossom was sure her face matched the shade of the deepest red of a tomato. She has seen guys shirtless before—and naked, but Blossom did not like to think of the face attached to _that_ body. Yet, here she was, a fumbling mess from Brick's upper body.

She knew he was in shape. It was evident by the decent amount of muscle mass his biceps held—it was not the same amount Butch had acquired from his years of physical labor at the bakery but was definitely more defined than Boomer's lanky arms. And it was not like he was ripped to the max or brawny. He was more toned and fit than anything. Nothing _too_ extravagant.

Yet, her eyes could not help tracing over the smooth muscles of his broad chest. To the nicely defined v-cut of his waist. To his stomach that had a subtle trail of dark red hair leading down from his belly button to the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Blossom blinked out of the unexpected daze she was under when the thought of where the trail lead to came across her mind. She clenched her jaw back together, clearing her throat—her incredibly dry throat.

Her face was burning greatly as she finally looked into his eyes.

"Do you always answer the door without a shirt on in the mornings?" She asked absentmindedly. Blossom did not even believe she would ask such a thing yet it just came out of her mouth.

Brick arched an eyebrow. His tall stature leaned against the door frame. A sly grin had taken shape on his lips.

"When I have to get out of bed unexpectedly to answer the door, yeah. I do."

His Cajun pronunciation was tamed again, no longer prominent in his tone. Instead, it was a subtle afterthought to his voice. A feature most would not pick up on if they did not pay close attention to his words.

Blossom tilted her head to a degree. Her lips pursed together in confusion. "Don't you have to be at the shop in twenty minutes?"

Brick was usually one to arrive at work at least an hour earlier than necessary. Blossom was aware of the routine he needed to complete in the morning to satisfied himself, which was why he preferred to be there way before opening.

He avoided her gaze. Ruby-colored eyes were fixated on his bare feet. His arms crossed, radiating off the discomfort he felt from the conversation.

"I had… a hard time getting out of bed this morning," he shrugged off. His voice quieter than anticipated.

"Brick," Blossom said softly.

She took a step towards him. Her hand found a home in the crook of his neck. She gently positioned his chin up with her thumb, giving him the opportunity to look up at her. He did so, hesitantly. There was a flash of… _disappointment_? She was not sure but there was something unsettling him, in which she was able read from his eyes.

Blossom was not sure if it was because of her or it had to do with all the troubling thoughts brewing in his head. She hoped it was her, simply for Brick's sake. However, Blossom had a feeling it was from Brick's restless mind.

"It's not a big deal," Brick mumbled. His arms slowly fell to his sides. "I'll get through it. I always do," he huffed out in an exhausted breath.

"You know, we can talk," Blossom whispered. She took another step closer to him, leaving no space between them. Her mind not even flustered by the idea of being up against Brick while he was shirtless. Instead, she was more concerned about his mental state. "Whatever it is going on in your head, we can talk about it. _All_ of it if you want—"

"Thanks for that, sweetheart. But it's fine," Brick brushed off. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll be fine. It's nothing new for me."

"Brick," she said skeptically.

Blossom was aware she could not force him to talk to her. If he wanted to keep his thoughts private, then he was allowed to. She simply wished her chest did not sting so much from the decision.

It was obvious Brick was hurting and Blossom wanted to help him. She wanted him to know she was there for him. That she would do anything to make him feel the slightest bit better. She wanted to take care of him. Make him see the good he was to the world. Let him know it was okay to feel love. To give him the much needed break he needed in life.

But Blossom could not do such a thing as Brick was determined to keep her at an arm's length with this. A position she had to respect, and did respect.

"I will be fine," Brick repeated firmly.

Blossom let out a small sigh. Her concern for him was consuming her but she had no outlet to express such an emotion.

"Okay," she breathed.

Apprehension reflected off of his ruby-colored eyes for a long moment before a crooked grin tugged on his lips. He was obviously looking for a way out of the current conversation material, Blossom decided.

His line of vision dipped down for a second and then glancing back up at her.

" _So_ … do you always show up unexpectedly at someone's doorstep in your sleep wear?"

Blossom arched an eyebrow, taking a step back from him to look herself over the best she could, "Well I—" The redhead abruptly stopped her sentence. Heat rose in her cheeks again as she became aware of how she forgot to put on a bra before leaving her house. More importantly, she swiftly came to the realization of just how see through the thin, white fabric of her tank top was. "I, uh," she fumbled while Brick let out a deep yet nervous laughter.

She narrowed her eyes at him as she was about to ask him what was so funny but Blossom took notice to the light pink tint lining his nose and cheeks. His flustered nature to the situation made her ease up, softening her stare towards him. Her arms folded across her chest to make sure nothing was visible anymore—even though she did not have quite that much to show to begin with.

Although, she did not know if she should be embarrassed by the situation. Brick was her boyfriend and seeing each other in this type of nature, was not something to be ashamed of. Yet, Blossom could not be nothing but timid about thoughts on that particular topic.

After Henry, Blossom was not surprised by the progression of her having physical intimacy issues. He had used her in ways that she should have never agreed to and now Blossom has to deal with the lasting effects of their relationship on more than one level.

Furthermore, the idea of her and Brick becoming intimate in such a way was not easy for her to settle into. Yes, she was attracted to him and hopes one day certain thoughts about them would not be weird for her. That one day, she would be comfortable enough to have sex with him and know what it was like to be with someone she was truly in love with but, as of now, there was no ease in her. It was not like how she had a subconscious want to be near Brick when she met him for the first time again. Or how calm her mind was when she kissed him at the Grand Canyon. All of those times, Blossom was able to be secure with Brick because they have all happened beforehand. Therefore, she was left with nothing but glee and the sense of being home when experiencing moments between them over again.

Yet, when the rare thoughts of physical intimacy came to her, Blossom's mind felt hazy and vacant. There was no faceless memories to draw upon like before. She was left with all the nerves and fears of repeating the mistakes of her past relationship instead. Which left her with the assumption, that because there was no gut feeling of calmness towards the topic, her and Brick never made it _that_ far in their relationship before.

It was a notion Blossom wondered if Brick had come to discover on his own too...

On the bright side, Brick has never shown any signs of pressure. In fact, any moves towards advancing their relationship have all been on her part in this timeline.

She was the one who tried to connect with him. She was the one who encouraged him to attempt to get his GED. She was the one who admitted her feelings first. She kissed him first. She asked him to be her boyfriend.

Noticing those type of things, made Blossom appreciate Brick even more. He respected her boundaries, allowing her to move forward when she felt comfortable to do so. It all led her to firmly know he would do the same when considering the process of furthering their relationship physically.

She knew deep down that she did not need to be flustered around him about these type of things, but it was going to take her some time to fully get use to the idea.

"I was in a rush," Blossom remarked. Her face, all the way down to her neck, was still hot from the entirety of the visit.

"To see me?" Brick questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. "We see each other everyday, sweetheart. I thought by now you would get tired of my ass."

"Quite the opposite, Brick," Blossom smiled happily. "But I came to get the journal."

Brick opened his mouth to reply but it hung for a moment. His jaw tightened together afterward. A hard swallow followed.

"You're trying to come up with a new plan?"

Blossom inhaled and exhaled smoothly. "Yeah. I am."

"... Are you sure that's the best idea at this time?" Brick questioned hesitantly. "After what happened to Brat, I'm…" He swallowed again. His face paler than normal. "I'm worried that Him will do something to," His voice dipped lower, coming out in a frightened whisper. " _You_."

"And I'm worried about Him doing something to you," Blossom said softly. Her mind flashing to Him stabbing Brick after his decision to sacrifice himself for her in one of the visions from the past. The image of it, still haunted her each and every day. "I can't be content with the thought of Him lingering around and none of us doing anything. I need to find a way to help. It's… It's helping me cope…"

Brick stayed quiet for a moment before nodding to her, pushing off of the door frame. "Alright," he said, motioning for her to come into his home.

He closed the door after she came in. His finger pointed over to the coffee table as he made his way over to his bathroom door. He began to talk from inside the opposite room.

"The translated journal is over there. I don't know if it will help you though. Other than what I told you, the rest of it was a jumbled mess. I'm pretty sure Buttercup's dad was erratic when he wrote some of his passages. But if you are going to read it, I think it's best if you stay here and read it since Townsville has Him acting like an all seeing eye."

Brick came out of his bathroom. A toothbrush in his mouth while a little bit of the white toothpaste he was using foamed against his lips. He had a burgundy tee-shirt in his hand, which he tossed over to Blossom.

The redhead caught the item of clothing, grateful he gave her something to cover up with. Her eyes traced over the white lettering stating, _Property of South Townsville High Athletics_ with an animated image of their mountain lion mascot underneath _._ She mouthed thank you to him before putting on the shirt. Blossom took in a deep inhale, finding the material smelled like Brick. The funny thing about having fire powers, was it made her boyfriend smell like a walking forest fire. A scent that warmed Blossom's entire body and soul.

"You're okay with me staying here alone?" She questioned after retrieving the journal from the coffee table. Blossom knew how much Brick liked his personal space and dislike towards feeling invaded by anyone.

He stopped brushing his teeth, taking out the plastic brush, "Yeah," he shrugged nonchalantly without a moment to question it. "As long as you don't touch the oven, I'm good."

"That was _one_ time," Blossom huffed out.

The last time— _and only time_ —she had tried to cook at Brick's home was a few weeks ago. It was a simple box of macaroni and cheese and the results… were less than stellar.

"You almost burned my house down," Brick pointed out. "It's a good thing I can control fire because it would have been bad if I didn't."

"I still think it wasn't entirely my fault," she pouted.

" _Right_ ," Brick chuckled sarcastically.

He went back to brushing his teeth, finding himself disappearing back into the bathroom. A few seconds later, he rejoined her in the living room. His lips wiped clean from any white toothpaste. He went to his refrigerator, taking out a water bottle, and then to one of his kitchen cabinets. His hand reached for an orange pill bottle, opening the small container to shake out one of the small pills. He quickly popped it into his mouth along with a large swing of water. Brick wiped his lips with the back of mouth, choosing to speak again before Blossom could ask him what he just took.

"I could come by around noon to bring you some lunch?"

Blossom grinned at his generous offer. "I would love that."

Brick gave her a nod before slipping into his bathroom, leaving Blossom alone again.

The redhead, with the journal—and a pen she grabbed from his coffee table—in hand, went to Brick's dining table. As she sat down, Blossom took a deep breath. Her mind hoping this would give her some answers to the many, many questions she has.

She turned to the first page of the journal. Her finger ran along the page lightly, feeling the smooth writing made by Brick. A soft smile spread across her face when looking at his neat but high-pressured handwriting.

At this point, anything about him impressed her.

Rose-colored eyes began to read the first passage. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she turned to the next page. And then the next. To another page, and the one afterward.

Brick was right.

A lot of the writing seemed inconsistent. Professor Utonium's words were full of paranoia and mistrust. Some sentences would stop and new ones would begin without any punctuation to signal the shift. Not to mention, most of them barely spoke about Him. Instead, they were specifying random numbers. Each new entry having a number highlighted at random.

 _17… 37… 57..._ _77… 97… 17..._

"Found anything?"

Blossom glanced over her shoulder, finding Brick behind her. He was dressed in his usual gray jumpsuit for work. His scarlet hair damp from a quick shower he must have taken and was ruffled messily. Car keys were in one hand.

"Not yet," she sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't remember Professor Utonium being like this. He was always so calm, intellectual, and _together._ I used to look up to him, Brick. I was originally interested to MIT because it was his Alma mater and all of the stories he used to tell me about the school. Seeing what he wrote…" Blossom began to frown. "It's just sad."

"That's what Him does," Brick said quietly. His hand perched on her shoulder to show support. "He knows how to bring out the worst in us."

Blossom cocked an eyebrow. " _The worst in us_ …" she repeated. "Isn't that what Ace said to you at the lake? His plan for the night was to bring out the worst in all of us?"

"Yeah, he did," Brick replied after a beat. His lips pressed together in thought after confirming the connection.

"So maybe Him wants to make us all behave badly?" She thought out loud. A part of her was thrilled by the idea of having a clue as to what Him wanted.

Brick shook his head. "I don't know about that. Ace seemed more interested in the violent effects we could draw upon. For some of us, I can see how the worst in us would be to act out. But then you? Bubbles and Boomer? Brute? Your worst wouldn't be the same as Ace. Or Buttercup's and Berserk's."

"You're right," she huffed out. Her shoulders sunk down in defeat. "Him is more complicated than simply wanting all of us to act as if we were in the _Hunger Games_."

"Unfortunately, he is," Brick said quietly. "And as much as I want to stay here with you, I have to get to work. Just make sure you don't overwork yourself, alright?"

"I wouldn't," Blossom promised.

Brick smiled at her reply. He moved his hand from her shoulder, using it to lift up her chin. He leaned down, giving her a kiss goodbye. The strong taste of cinnamon danced across Blossom's lips from making contact with Brick's. As he began to stand back up again, Blossom gently tugged on the collar of his jumpsuit.

"I can I have one more?" She asked playfully.

Brick grinned at her. "Anything for you," he remarked, pressing down against her lips again. He let the kiss last longer than the first one before he pulled away. His free hand went to her head, ruffling her hair affectionately. "I'll be back around noon."

"Looking forward to it," Blossom grinned.

She instinctively combed through her hair as she watched Brick go to his front door. He gave her one last look before heading out. Once Blossom heard his truck start up, she began to read the journal again.

Brick's comment about bringing out the worst in them was stuck in the forefront of her mind when analyzing the pages.

 **September 27th**

 **Repeat the sequence. The moon will turn the shade of blood. The meteor will make an appearance again—We are stuck here. Stuck with the threat. They don't know! The rest don't know. But we… I know! There has to be—What does the meteor bring? Why us? Why weren't we the final ones? The new group, they will be—Sedusa is close by. I must stop writing for now.**

Blossom grew more disheartened by getting the picture of what Professor Utonium's mental state was like before his death. Him truly broke Professor Utonium.

He lost his sanity. Growing up, Professor Utonium was the most put together adult Blossom knew. He loved his family and his career…

 _Career_ …

Blossom widened her eyes as the realization came to her. Professor Utonium had lost both of his jobs a year before his death.

He used to teach at the university in Citiesville while also making new tech for an energy company in Phoenix. He was responsible for creating energy efficient power boxes for the town. There used to be one every other block.

Then a freak accident happened. One of the boxes in Buttercup and Butch's neighborhood exploded from being overpowered. Two individuals happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and lost their lives. Professor Utonium was fired soon afterward due to being a liability and was let go by the university for displaying some erratic behavior following the incident.

Blossom remembered how Buttercup kept swearing it was not her father's fault. She had watched him create the entire system and there was a kill-switch designed to contain any chances of a massive influx of power. Her, her father, the company in Phoenix, and those who worked for the town were the only ones who knew of the design. The civil servants of Townsville had gotten a peak at the blueprints when the Mayor signed for the project.

Now that Blossom knew Professor Utonium was apart of Him's group before her, it was hard for her not to agree with Buttercup's theory. Except it was not someone at City Hall, but Him who had manipulated the events.

Him took away Professor Utonium's passion and disgraced him.

Him had achieved at bringing out the worst in Professor Utonium. Insatiability was what caused him to lose his mind. It was the individual quality that ruined him.

For a year, Professor Utonium was lost with no help available for him. The only way he was able to cope, was trying to figure out how to stop Him. He must have known about Him's influence growing stronger on him. His research took over and drove him into a deeper madness. The paranoia Professor Utonium had was immensely valid, when Blossom thought about it now.

She flipped through more pages. Some of the passages were saying the same ideas in different phrases.

 _Repetition… Again… Happens more than once…_

The paranoia was growing more and more with each page.

Blossom arched an eyebrow as Brick had written in the margins of the section that it used to involve multiple drawings in the original text. Ones that mostly represented each of a certain power they individually had.

 **December 7th**

 **The meteor provides to the chosen. We were not them—None of us before were. We did not carry the traits for it. My dreams and research into the folks tales of the blood moon have allowed me to conclude we are not—They will be the group. They will be what has been chased after—Powers like no one has seen. Powers entwined with their soul. The meteor knows. It knows all…**

Blossom wondered how Professor Utonium was able to decipher most of their powers from visions in his dreams. His writing painted a picture of a man out of his mind and spoke nothing of the truth, but he had figured out an aspect before everyone else while lost in his own madness.

And then his words about folk tales... How did anyone outside of Townsville know about Him or their abilities? Blossom hoped Professor Utonium would indulge more on that part.

However, Professor Utonium neglected to talk about their powers nor the folk tales anymore. Other than illusion, speed, and invisible being used a few more times, there was nothing much to make note of. The three words were used to describe their companion. Lack of sleep was equivalent to speed. Illusion and nightmares. Invisible and nausea.

They appeared to be the only side effects Professor Utonium had some understanding of.

After that, he failed to talk about them. At some point, the journal stopped discussing his research. Instead, it became personal.

He started writing about the state of his marriage. How Sedusa was overcautious about what he may discover. His want to protect her. There was a discussion of regrets he had over the course of his life. Buttercup's relationship with him and his hopes for her in life.

Blossom felt invasive reading some of the passages. They told a tale of a man losing his sanity but was trying to grip onto the little bits of reality he had left. His wife and daughter.

Sedusa was not her favorite person; and while her own mother was not a saint, Blossom could not help feeling grateful for her mother whenever hearing or seeing how Sedusa treats Buttercup. Yet, the picture Professor Utonium painted of her, she seemed… _likable_?

It was clear he loved her deeply and vice versa. It was a shame their story together had to end the way it did, Blossom noted with a heavy heart.

 **January 28th**

 **There is not much time left. The ending is coming soon—So much I could have fixed. Mor—I let them down. I was the last one and I let them down. We all have succumb to—If only I had tried. If only we had been able to forgive each other. Together… we could have salvaged our lives. Then the worst came—I should have apologized. Time moves so quickly, it is hard to notice the wounds we have not let heal. Our past becomes our future, I have come to realize. My mistakes, I should have fixed—The end is coming soon. It will happen all again. Then _he_ will be set free. **

**It was Sedusa and I's faults if that is how the events turn.**

Blossom inhaled a shaky breath as she become acquainted with the knowledge of influence of the past. She was not sure if Professor Utonium was correct or if he was in a manic state when writing this passage. It could be another ramble of erratic thoughts.

There was no telling. Just like her visions, Blossom was not sure what she could believe or not.

However, there was one note that frightened her more than anything. The way Professor Utonium spoke, it almost sounded how Blossom's thoughts have been acting for the past week. The need to take responsibility. The mistakes piling into needs to fix things but when it came time to do so, it was too late.

Was she doomed to become him? To lose her sanity in the name of defeating something way bigger than her? Those notions... They were too alarming for her to easily digest them.

She did not want to lose herself. If she was on the verge of doing so, then perhaps Blossom should reconsider her position in all of this.

Maybe she was not the right person after all...

As she moved towards the end of the journal, Blossom was left with little questions answered and more brewing within her. Furthermore, she was starting to feel more buried than ever with no chance of digging herself out of the grave made for her.

Even when she turned to the last page, there was nothing to calm her fears down. Nothing to confirm her new theories. Or even her previous ones.

 **March 28th**

 **It has all happened before. Years and years of suffering for one cause. Chaos will stop at nothing to return. I fear that I may find myself on the receiving end. My research has grown too dangerous over the past fifteen years. The darkness looming together once again for when it chooses a new group to torture. A group that I believe will finally give Him what he wants…**

 **The blood moon will carry out the same routine but this time, it will work. My successors will gain control of the mysterious elements within them unlike my colleagues and I. Unlike those before us for the past ninety-five years.**

 **I have to find a way to stop Him or the world will collapse under his reign. A world I do not want to expose my dear daughter to…**

 **Sedusa says I should stop my obsession before it gets me killed. Before Him finds out how close I am. She thinks I should say quiet like her and the others.**

 **I'm sorry my love, but there are certain things I cannot give up on. Him needs to be stopped. If not…**

 **God save us all.**

In his last entry, Professor Utonium seemed to be at his clearest. The last day before his death and he was more consistent with his thoughts. If things did not turn out the way they did, perhaps she would have more answers.

She would not be using a journal for guidance about an inter-dimensional demon who has silently been terrorizing the citizens of Townsville for ninety-five years…

 _Wait_ …

This was written five years ago, which meant this was the hundredth year. Blossom quickly recollected Brick's explanation of how the blood moon happened each twenty years for the past century. A fact in which went over her head when presented with the other information given on that day.

Blossom rapidly turned back to the beginning of the journal.

 _17… 37… 57… 77… 97… 17_ …

Those six numbers were not random. They were dates. Each the year of the blood moon. Each the year of when the meteor selected a new group.

 _Repetition_ … _Again… Happens more than once…_

There was no control over their actions it seemed. They were simply replaying the past. They were paralleling those before them.

History was known to repeat itself, and in this case, Blossom was fearful of it being true.

That they had no chance of changing the course of events.

Were they truly doomed all along? Was trying to stop Him a wasted effort after all?

Blossom did not want to believe it but from the slim amount of evidence she had, everything pointed in one direction.

Chaos was unstoppable. Him should have won by now.

If it was not for the strange time loop, Him's century long imprisonment of being stuck halfway through this dimension would have been over a long time ago.

Which again, brought to Blossom's attention as to why did the time loop exist? What was Him trying to achieve with it if it was even Him's doing it?

Blossom wished she could travel back in time and find ways to prevent the repetition of the past. To stop Him from tormenting her and the others like he has done to the other groups.

She wanted to know what the other groups went through. What caused them to fall apart so easily and what made her group different from the others.

Without realizing it, Blossom had began to write down the sequence of dates. Her fingertips brushed upon the soft page of paper. A little bit of the black ink smudged under her skin.

Blossom heard herself breathing heavily but it was distant to her. As if it was not coming from her own body. Her surroundings were becoming blurry. Her head grew light and dizzy. Light faded in and out in flashes. Her eyes were growing heavier and heavier the more she fought it.

She did not know what was going on with her body. There was no way for her to control what was happening.

In a matter of moments, things went black and she was no longer conscious to the world around her...

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

Blossom groaned to herself. Her eyes peeled open. She slowly grew more conscious, finding herself on the ground outdoors. She sat herself up, rubbing her temples.

Her head… It felt like a scrambled mess. As if it was a television stuck permanently on with static snow.

It took Blossom a few moments to adapt to her surroundings. Her mind becoming a little bit clearer as she recognized where she was.

She was at Lake Canem Loquentes.

Blossom's hands pressed into the ground underneath her as she pushed herself to stand up. Her head felt empty, making her stumble in her footing. She grabbed onto a nearby pine tree for support. A few deep breaths were taken for her to relieve her lightheadedness.

She took a glance at her hand using the tree for support. Her skin was transparent, allowing her to see through it. The bark of the tree peeking through led her to know that she was not physically in the moment.

Whatever this was, it was a personal vision for her.

She wandered around the pine forest. Her feet moved slower than normal. It was as if someone had reduced time around her, making her feel lethargic with each step made.

The lake soon came into her sight.

Or at least, what the lake should be.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows, finding a large crater in the center of the land. The length being almost exact to what the lake was. The only difference was, the hole seemed much shallower than the current state of what the lake was. It was about fifteen feet deep with a plateau made shortly by the shoreline; while Blossom remembered the long incline she had to travel to get to the center of the lake on Halloween.

In the middle of the crater, four men stood together. Concrete walls were being constructed in the moonlight.

The underwater bunker, Blossom noted to herself quickly.

She hid between a pine tree despite them not being able to see her, hoping to get more of an idea of what was going on.

Her eyes analyzed the men. They seemed to be in their late thirties. Their appeal was odd to her. It seemed _dated_.

They all wore overalls designed with pinstripes. Underneath, they wore long sleeve button down shirts. The collars of their shirts were noticeably stiff. Newsboy caps were adorned to the crown of each of their heads.

Their appearance reminded Blossom of her United States History class in high school. The time spent learning about the workers and unions in America during the beginning of the twentieth century.

Blossom came to the sudden thought that it was possible she had traveled back in time. That this was not a vision after all. She, unexpectedly, had tapped into her powers for once and was able to get results. And now, she was at the beginning.

The first night of the blood moon.

It was _1917_ and she was about to witness the start of Him's terror.

She looked up at the moon. The celestial object was perfectly aligned with the center of the hole in which would soon be Lake Canem Loquentes. A thick red haze was formulating around the moon.

Blossom felt the urge to warn the men. To let them escape the fate Brick had informed her about. However, she was not truly there. This was a replay of events for her to witness like a live play. The men would not be able to see her nor hear any warnings she may have. There was nothing she could possibly do.

Instead, Blossom was stuck watching them work on the mysterious room. Two were focused entirely on building the structure while the other two were jabbering on about current events.

One was speaking critically about the government's involvement with the war, while the other was pleased since it gave them work to do.

It was soon revealed to her by them about the purpose of the bunker. The room was to be used to interrogate any German spies that were suspected in the southwestern region of the United States.

With that newly acquainted knowledge, Blossom instantly realized she had been in the bunker before. The interrogation room where Berserk and Butch were in during her vision, that was the inside of the bunker. The scene of where she met Robin back in the forest, it was from the same event.

Robin had used her invisibility on Blossom to sneak her into the bunker. That was how she was able to see Butch and Berserk without them seeing her.

With that theory, the redhead came to the acknowledgement that she may have not seen a vision from Butch after all. In fact, the insight to Berserk and Butch's relationship, may have been a personal look of her own into another timeline.

Perhaps, it was not truly about Butch and Berserk either. Nor was the other scene about Robin and her odd behavior.

The visions were actually about the bunker. How it was the interrogation room and the way to access it was on the other side of the lake by the trees Brick had burnt for a momentarily length of time on Halloween.

It was another warning. A clue she was not receptive to the real meaning of until later.

All of them were. It seemed like all of them were carefully selected for Blossom to see. Each having a hidden meaning she glossed over unintentionally in favor for the more obvious parts she witnessed.

As Blossom was about to connect some more pieces together, the moon had descended into a rich shade of red.

All four of the men paused in what they were doing. Bewilderment struck across each of their faces.

A bright light soon raced towards them. The mysterious meteor was making it's first appearance in the century it would terrorize.

Blossom sucked in a deep breath. Her hands tightened together in a white knuckle grip. Her stomach churned from the remembrance of the night at the lake. The terror she felt from seeing her impending doom. The hopelessness she held in her chest as there was no escape from the path of the meteor.

It was determined to hit them. She was destined to be one of the victims of the meteor. Just as these four men were too.

In the blink of an eye, the blinding light crashed into them. The ground sunk in with the entity, driving the crater deeper into the earth.

The white light slowly devolved into darkness. The earth underneath the lake began to crack. Large fractures were forming along the center of the lake, only to be stopped by the solid concrete structure of the bunker.

Jet-black shadows were seeping through from the cracks, released into the night air. The atmosphere sharply changed into a more intense heat. A climate more similar to the one Townsville was under in her current time, Blossom realized.

The shadows seemed to collect above the bunker. A crimson beam of light flared underneath. The shadows swirled together, converging into one. A dark figure was being birthed from the action.

And that figure was Him.

The demon had crossed over with the meteor's impact. The entity created a dent in the gateway of their two respective dimensions to allow Him through.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows as Him appeared to be confused himself. His dark transparent eyes were stuck on his body.

Him seemed to be realizing he did not make it over completely. His physical form stuck in his own dimension still.

The bunker, Blossom noted, had prevented Him from coming over completely. It blocked the fracture from allowing the gateway to fully open.

Him seemed to try going back to the fracture but the Earth slowly merged back together. In a matter of seconds, it seemed as if there was never any fissures there.

The gateway had closed. Him was too late to retrieve his physical body.

He was stuck in this dimension without his true form.

A dark mist covered the water-less lake as Him appeared to be outraged by his reality. His focus went to the four workers who laid on the ground under him. They survived the meteor, just as Blossom did. Him summoned one of the men, lifting his unconscious body with his mind.

The construction worker's arms and legs began to bend inward. His limbs were twisted together like a pretzel. His hips contorted unnaturally. More and more...

Blossom had to look away as she heard the echoes of bones cracking loudly in her ears. She closed her eyes, wishing to leave. She had seen enough of this period in time.

She wanted to leave.

She needed to leave...

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

Blossom's mind had faded to complete darkness before coming back to her. She opened her eyes like before, finding herself at the lake again. Her body still transparent to her sight.

She had traveled through time again. Blossom figured she must be going through each date now. If so, she must be in _1937_.

The redhead made pace around the pine forest again. Her head seemed a bit less light from the use of her powers, making it easier for her to get up this time around.

The lake came into her line of vision once again. The setting was eerily familiar to what she knew as Lake Canem Loquentes' in present day. The crater of the man-made lake was filled to the brim of inky water.

Oddly, the sky did not have a red haze brewing with the silver moonlight.

Blossom scanned the area, trying to find anything she must take note of but strangely found everything to be the same to current time. It was like the lake never changes after the first date.

As if time stood still, forever frozen in one single moment.

That must be a reason why it was important for her to get to the center of the lake. It could be the strongest area of untapped energy from the space-time continuum. That and it was directly underneath the gateway to Him's dimension.

She was still not sure how she played into the factor of the dimensional gate yet, as Blossom had the feeling it had more to do with Him getting the keys of chaos than her powers.

In the corner of her eye, Blossom caught sight of a woman across the lake.

She had her head covered by a white scarf tied underneath her chin. Dark shades covered her eyes despite it being the middle of the night. Her face even hard to make out in the distance.

The redhead jogged over to where the woman was heading, which was into the pine forest opposite from Blossom.

The same location Brick had set ablaze when fighting Berserk.

It took her a few minutes but Blossom caught up to her. She was alone in the wooded area. Her sunglasses were off, held tightly in her left hand. Her eyes focused on a tiny wrist watch. A oddly shaped boulder granted her support as she leaned against it.

She was dressed in an ankle-length, navy peplum dress. Red buttons ran straight down the upper half of the dress. Wooden heels dyed the same hue were strapped to her tiny feet. Vibrant scarlet lipstick was painted onto her lips. Her skin could be comparable to fine china. Sharp cheekbones, a heart-shaped face, and almond-shaped eyes added more to her appearance.

The woman decided to remove her headscarf, freeing her short ebony hair. The length of her hair was curled and ended right above her chin.

When she glanced up, the redhead caught sight of her slate-colored eyes. To Blossom, they reminded her of the moon.

She was like a porcelain doll. Beautiful to look at but seemed cold to the touch.

The woman stayed alone for a long period of time before a twig cracked in the distance. A man soon appeared from the forest.

His stature was much taller than her. About a foot or so. A verdant dress shirt, wide-legged brown pants, and oxfords of the same shade of his trousers covered his body. A gold chain could be found in his right pocket, which Blossom figured must be a pocket watch. His hair was the shade of honey and was slicked back with an impossible amount of hair cream. His eyes were a striking color of amber.

"Lawrence," the woman greeted coldly. She folded her arms. A dark, starkly drawn eyebrow arched upward. "It's about time."

"Come on, Catherine," he chuckled. "I did the best I could do. And look, I made it here to see you like you wanted."

"Yes, yes. I suppose," she said under her breath. She glanced down at the pebbles on the ground. A heavy sigh escaped from her lips. "...We should end this."

"What? Why?" Lawrence exasperated. He took a step forward. The gravel underneath him crunched loudly from his heavyweight. "Is this about Edith?"

Catherine avoided his gaze. Her head turned to the side. "Maybe it is…"

The man inhaled through his nostrils. His eyes closed for a moment to calm himself down. Both of his large hands reached out for Catherine, settling on her upper arms. They gently held onto her as he tried to appease her.

"I've told you time and time again, Catherine. I'm in love with you. Edith and I… I have to do what will make my parents happy. And that's marrying into her family, unfortunately. I can't—" His face wavered for a second. A brief moment of vulnerability. He cleared his throat to prevent anymore of those emotions to display. "I can't get out of this unfavorable commitment. I thought you understood that."

"I did," she mumbled. Her dark eyelashes fluttering upward as Catherine finally allowed herself to look up at him. "But after… _that_ night, I find myself unsatisfied with the thought of being the other woman."

Blossom widened her eyes at the acknowledge Catherine made and what it most likely meant. Her and Lawrence were hit by the meteor. Which also means, Him had his eyes on them. They were another one of his many to come casualties.

"I do not want to be a secret for you, Lawrence. I want to marry. I want a family with the man I love. I want to enjoy life for every moment and not some brief ones I have in the darkness of sneaking around. I do not want to die having any ill notions towards the choices I make. And my family may not have the same amount of wealth as Edith's but if you truly loved me, you would leave her. You would not go through with the wedding. If that is too much for you, if you do not agree, if you cannot find yourself man enough to make the decision we both know would make you happy, then I will move on. I will find a man who could give me children in a respectable way. One who would not keep me hidden for the rest of my life."

Blossom tilted her head. She wondered if complicated love triangles were prevalent in most of the groups chosen. How Lawrence and Catherine carried themselves, resembled Butch and Berserk to her. One was icy with trust issues. The other was warm and had a difficult time at making personal decisions.

Not to mention the secret romance aspect both relationships had, added more to the comparison.

Catherine waited for Lawrence to answer her. His grip on her loosely. Hands fell back to his sides.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I wish things could be different for us. If we met before I was engaged…"

The ebony-haired woman remained mum. Her scarlet lips parted a little. She wanted to say something but could not find the words it seemed.

After an uncomfortable length of silence, Catherine spoke up.

"You truly are a pathetic man, aren't you?" She whispered.

Blossom figured she wanted to seem angry. To make Lawrence regret making an enemy out of her. However, her voice expressed the recently developed heartbreak she held. The hurt she felt was inescapable.

If Catherine and Lawrence did parallel Butch and Berserk, Blossom was a bit happy things worked out for the latter half. Even though they were traitors to the human race, it was hard for the redhead not to appreciate their unconditional love for each other. Catherine and Lawrence... their fault was there were too many conditions to their love for each other.

"Catherine," he breathed. "I said I was sorry. Can't that be enough for you?"

She shook her head, "It is not. You surely made the wrong decision tonight. Edith will never—"

Before Catherine could finish her sentence, she was flung back into a tree. As was the same with Lawrence. A dark mist trailed in from the surrounding forest.

It was not long until Him formed before them. Catherine narrowed her eyes at him. She attempted to point her finger at Him but was restricted due to the mass force keeping her pushed against the tree.

"You!" Catherine shouted out fearfully. "You're the thing that has been haunting me! You're the monster from my dreams!"

Him grinned in delight at her reaction. "And I'm the monster outside of your dreams too, darling."

"What—What do you want?" Lawrence trembled.

Him's dark eyes flickered between the two. "I believe you both have something I need."

The dark figure gravitated towards Lawrence. A wispy hand stroked the side of his face. In a matter of seconds, Lawrence was screaming at top of his lungs with Catherine doing the same hysterical. Blood was rushing out of his nostrils and eyes. His body shook violently under Him's strong hold over him.

Blossom wished to leave again but found no luck. She was stuck with her eyes closed, unable to force herself to willing see Lawrence's death.

"What did you do to him?" Catherine shrilled in between her sobs. "Why—Why would you…"

"I told you, I need something from the both of you. There are many ways I could go about getting chaos, but this way is so much more delicious for me..."

Blossom opened her eyes for a brief moment at the mention of chaos before shutting them again, narrowly missing Catherine's turn at having her life end.

He killed them for the keys of chaos. Him believed they would have opened the gateway.

From what Brick told them all, none of the groups before them were able to give Him what he wanted. Meaning, Lawrence and Catherine died for no reason at all.

It only fulfilled Him's bloodlust...

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

Blossom gasped harshly. Her eyes snapped open.

She had awakened in the same spot. The night stars above the lake greeted her once again. They were the only friendly aspect to what she has seen so far.

The redhead was able to stand up with more ease again, stumbling only once in her way towards the lake.

Through the forest, she could already hear voices. Shouting and accusations filled the stagnant air.

Blossom hurried in her steps, making her way out of the pine forest to find a group of seven. A clear division was made between the individuals. Three stood on one side facing the four others. An intense standoff was in full effect.

"We need to address what happened! We can't keep running away from the–the– _The freak_!" A blonde girl argued, stumbling a little with trying to figure out a name for the shadow haunting them; while Blossom confirmed to herself that the _1957_ group has already experienced the blood moon and were obviously dealing with the consequences of the aftermath.

She looked about Blossom's age—as did the other six individuals. Her hair was long and straight. She was skinny and taller than the two guys who stood next to her. Her face long and narrow with a significantly, pointy and elongated nose.

"Are you insane, Margaret?" Another girl from the opposing side exclaimed. Her hair darker than the lake's water at night. Chubby cheeks puffed out in outrage. "We're not going to risk losing our damn minds trying to figure out some fever dreams you keep having."

"She's not the only having them," a scrawny brunet pitched in. "I saw them too."

The only male of the other side scoffed at the brunet's remark. His eyes rolled dramatically. "Of course, Joseph has to be Margaret's hero and make her feel less insane. Newsflash loser, she is not going to let you in her pants. So just stop lying already and get over yourself."

"Gerald, you're only saying that because Margaret turned you down and now you're jealous," Joseph egged on.

The two males took a step closer to one another, puffing out their chests in a macho contest. Gerald had the clear advantage over the brunet. His body stature was similar to Butch's, having an intimidating height and muscular body mass.

"Oh god, put your dicks away already," a redhead girl groaned from the majority side. The two boys looked over to her before backing away from each other. Their great dislike for the other was evident from their faces. The redhead let out a tired sigh, shifting her weight, "We're not going to help you guys. We all agreed to not discuss what happened that night. So just shut up already and deal with it."

"Do you always have to act like your better than everyone, Barbara?" The other male beside Margaret questioned. His thick blond eyebrows furrowed together in frustration.

"Yeah, I do," she said firmly. "Is there a problem with that, _Bobby?_ " She used his name venomously. As if it was poison upon the tip of her tongue.

Bobby laughed at her dryly. "And you wonder why I broke up with you."

"I don't actually," Barbara snapped.

"So you _do_ have an understanding it was because of your utterly annoying, superiority complex?"

Barbara gritted her teeth together at his condescending comment. She took a step forward, jabbing his shoulder aggressively.

"No! It because you couldn't keep your hands off of Margaret!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Gerald chimed in. His finger pointed at Bobby. "You scored with Barbara _and_ Margaret? Nice job, man!" The boy put up his hand for a high five but Bobby was too busy sending Barbara daggers.

"Barbara, we didn't do—"

"Shut it, bird-face," the redhead ordered. "Ruth saw you both at the cinema the week before Bobby broke up with me."

"That I did," the girl with the dark hair added. "So did Donna." She nudged her shoulder towards the short girl next to her, to which Donna nodded.

"We didn't—It wasn't what," Margaret began to fumble. "Guys, this isn't about Bobby and me—"

"You and Bobby are together?" Joseph murmured beside her. Hurt emotions expressed across his face.

"Jo, we—"

"Ha!" Gerald mocked. "You've spent all of high school following her around like a lapdog only for her to chose your best friend. Oh, that's golden," the tall male laughed boastfully.

In a matter of minutes, the group divulged into chaos. Joseph and Gerald began shoving each other around, with Joseph being jerked around like a rag doll. Bobby and Barbara were at each other's throats—they could have given Buttercup and Butch a run for their money with dragging on and involving others into their bitter breakup. Margaret was sharing her frustrations with Ruth and Donna for spreading rumors. The two girls were too busy shaming the blonde about her relations to care about what Margaret had to say.

All in the midst of this, the seven missed out on the dark energy peering out from across the lake. A sinister smile watched his entertainment from a far.

Blossom knew why Him was pleased. The seven were bringing out the worst in each other. They were creating enough chaos for Him to feed off of. He must have thought they would have been the group to get the keys of chaos from.

She could see why he did. There was too much bad blood between the seven of them. Too many secrets, resentment, and lack of remorse to their actions. There was no sense of togetherness in any of them. No strong foundation of trust. They were the perfect group to fall under Him's manipulation.

According to Professor Utonium's journal, this may be the same way his friend group shattered. They repeated these seven individuals' mistakes.

Blossom, now, knew she could not let her friends become the same. They needed each other more than she realized...

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

The wake up was much gentler. Her eyes fluttered open softly. The night sky was as calm as her mind felt.

Blossom stood, finding no problems at all. She carried out the same actions like before, heading for the lake itself first.

As expected, Blossom found a woman running in the distance. Her location heading in a similar direction.

It was the same way Catherine had gone to meet up with Lawrence.

Blossom followed after her, only to be brought to a halt in the same exact area as she was in _1937_.

The woman—a dark-skinned brunette dressed in all black and was carrying a satchel—seemed interested in the odd boulder; the same one Catherine had used as support to lean on when waiting for Lawrence. The woman kept circling around the rock. Her eyes searched critically for something.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. It was just a rock, why was she spending so much time on it?

 _Unless_ …

The redhead started circling around the boulder too. There was something bizarre about it. The surface texture appeared to be fake. The shape of the rock has not eroded or weathered over the past four decades. The way the ground seemed to incline into the earth around it was another unusual factor.

The woman, in her act of examining the rock, crouched down to her hands and knees. Her fingers slipped into a space—a width of no more than an inch and a half—in between the rock and the ground. Her full hand soon followed, then her other one. In a use of her might, the woman propped the rock up—except it was not a rock at all.

It was a disguised doorway. _The opening for the bunker_ , Blossom acknowledged.

The woman gazed down into the manhole, climbing onto the long ladder used to lead down to the even ground that the bunker was on. Blossom accompanied her in her descend into the bunker.

The drop down to solid ground was much longer than Blossom had predicted. It must have been two or three minutes before her and the woman were congruent with the bunker.

They were brought to a long hallway. Industrial lights from decades before kept the narrow space in dim illumination. The walls were lined with dingy white subway tiles while the floors were smooth concrete.

The woman reached into her satchel, pulling out a camera. The loud shuttering of the object echoed off the walls. When she seemed satisfied with her photo intake, the woman put the camera back in her bag and started running down the hallway.

She trailed behind the woman by ten steps for awhile before both were brought to a halt by a door at the end of the hallway. The sound of the woman's panting intensified in Blossom's ears as did her own need to catch her breath. The stranger's hands went to the hatch of the door, opening it slowly.

The doorway led into a barely lit room, which other than the two different doors to choose from, was completely empty. The walls were made out of solid concrete as oppose to the ones in the hallway.

The woman pulled out her camera again, snapping more photos of the room for unknown reasons.

She entered the room, going for the door to the right of her.

It took Blossom a moment to realize she recognized the entire room. It was the one she found herself in before finding the interrogation room.

The woman was repeating the same actions Blossom had done before—or had Blossom copied her?

The woman took multiple photographs in a frenzy of the room.

"The Mayor is going to have a hard time denying this place, now isn't he?" The woman questioned to herself with a smirk.

Blossom took a step back, her eyes welling up in fear as an ominous cloud swirled around the woman's feet. She had the same reaction as Blossom, backing herself against the wall containing the one-way window.

Him's wispy figure conjured up before her.

The redhead knew where this was going. After Catherine and Lawrence, Blossom could not bare watching another person's end.

Without any hesitations, Blossom sprinted out of the room, begging for herself to snap out of this time period. The sound of the woman's shrills of agony played over Blossom's ears as the world faded to black around her...

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

The scream…

She could still hear the woman screaming as she woke up in the new time period.

The last time period. _1997_.

Sedusa and Jonathan Utonium were apart of this group. Perhaps other individuals she knew in Townsville were secretly apart of Him's scheme too...

She made the familiar route to the lake. Her head the most calm it has been in weeks.

Well, if one did not count the constant image of Brat's lifeless body being flashed to the forefront of her mind or the newly acquired replay of the poor woman's cry of pain, then her thoughts were the most safest place to be.

There was a bonfire happening on the lake's shore. Embers of the flames flickered into the night air as seven individuals were among those on the beach.

Blossom quickly found Buttercup's dad. His appearance had not changed much from his youth. Other than the slight lines of age on his forehead he acquired in the few years before his death, Professor Utonium surely was beating Father Time.

He was engaged in a conversation with a short male.

The man had a head full of thick, raven-colored hair. His built stocky and wide. From Blossom understanding, he appeared to have some ancestral ties to Eastern Asia.

Blossom narrowed her eyes for moment. The man… he looked oddly familiar.

"Sara! Sedusa!" Professor Utonium called out, pausing his conversation with the unknown male as the two females came from the pathway leading from the parking lot of the lake. "I'm so glad you both came."

Blossom snapped her neck over to the two.

 _It could not be_ …

Rose-colored eyes immediately identified the person in question.

It was her mom with an incredibly pregnant Sedusa.

Her mom…

She was involved.

Blossom let her mouth hang, unable to function initially from the new knowledge.

Her mom had ties to Him. _This whole time_. For twenty years, her mom kept the secret of an inter-dimensional demon looming over the town.

Once she ingested the revelation with some deep breaths, Blossom finally had the curtain lifted in her mind to help unveil the truth.

It should be more of a lasting surprise to her. She should expect more from her mom to be innocent. To be in denial about something so life-altering to her.

Yet, now, it was perfectly clear to Blossom that her mom must be apart of the few who are spreading chaos discreetly.

The way she has led Townsville into focusing on trivial matters instead of eradicating the Gangreen Gang a long time ago. Wasting town funding on expanding city hall for no reason at all other than widening the gap between those who lived in the "Rich Pines" to those who did not. Her decision to ruin Morris Jojo without a lack of regard.

The affair she was having with Bubbles' father… It was not a power grab or use of poor decision making. It was strategy. A way to wreck a marriage to bring out the worst in two individuals. Thus, allowing Him to feed off the chaos caused by the dissolve of a former relationship built on love.

Her mom was too smart for her own good. Which meant, her mom was an excellent partner for Him. A valuable one.

Which made Blossom question why Him was willing to sacrifice her mom if Brick went through with burning City Hall?

"Right, like I was going to miss out on my going away celebration," her mom replied back to Professor Utonium when the four merged together. A cooler was placed near the fire, which her mom went to, grabbing three bottles of wine coolers and a water. She handed the two other bottles full of alcohol to the males and the water to Sedusa, rising her bottle in the air. "Cheers to me getting the hell out of this town and finally making it to California!"

Blossom watched as they clinked their bottles together. A pair of electric green eyes rolled at the words of the redhead beside her.

She continued to watch the four for a moment but found herself eyeing the others there with them.

A group of three men were standing by the lake's shoreline, each smoking cigarettes respectively.

There was a lanky blond. He wore a pair of glasses with thick frames and a tight white shirt. His nose was long, sloping downward.

It took her a few moments to come to realization that he was Boomer's biological dad.

 _Richard Hardly_.

Or as her mom and his colleagues called him, he was known as Dick. The man who was famous for sticking his junk in anything that could walk. Boys, girls, anyone and everyone; he did not care as along as they were attractive. His promiscuity was what resulted in him accidentally getting a woman pregnant at the age of twenty-one—which, given the time period she was currently in, Boomer had to be about eight months old. It also meant, Dick Hardly had four more months until a chubby baby boy would be left in his care as Boomer's mom would go off to pursue her college degree in England.

Furthermore, he was the same man who left Boomer and his partner for no explainable reason a few years into the future.

Well, Blossom had the reason for his disappearance now. He was trying to escape Him.

There was a man who would was balding pretty badly for being a young age and sporting a pot belly. It was easy for Blossom to recognize him as Gustavo. The owner of White Kitty's.

He was a man Boomer would point out on repeat occasions as being odd. She heard around town about the fact of the owner spoke more to his cockatoo than his customers or employees.

Perhaps his slip in sanity had to do with Him.

Rex Morbucks was the other person she knew. His apricot hair color and sausage fingers were the key indicators to her.

His involvement, like her mother's, was not hard to accept. This was a man who prided himself on keeping his wealth at any means possible, had no shame in destroying the environment with his company's factory waste, and spent most days making others feel inferior.

Yeah, he fit perfectly into Him's cause.

On the rock used for seating on the beach, two women sat together.

One had rich, dark skin. Her ebony hair shaped into a long crew cut. The haircut did wonders for her as it showed off her high cheekbones beautifully, making her seem otherworldly. Her eyes were a captivating shade of olive, which contrasted greatly with her skin tone, making them the first thing most people went to.

For some reason, she remained Blossom of Brute.

As she thought about it, Brute did talk about how her mom made them move out of Townsville for mysterious reasons. When her dad wanted to move back to town to save Otto's from closing, Brute's mom decided not to go back with them.

If it was Brute's mom, this could explain why her mom wanted to leave Townsville. She was trying to escape Him as Boomer's dad had done.

The other woman… it was clear to Blossom she was not from Townsville. She spoke with a southern drawl, and held herself with effortless grace and etiquette.

A true Southern Belle she was.

Her head was full of large dark ringlets. A round face and full lips; slender shoulders, porcelain skin, and tiny hands.

Her left hand was decorated with an antique engagement and wedding rings. A gold band for her marriage matched the same aesthetic of the three, marquise-cut diamonds of her engagement ring. The center gem was larger than the two next to it but the middle was no bigger than half of a karat. The design was simplistic yet elegant, much to Blossom's own personal liking.

She turned to the side, allowing Blossom to get an even better view of her face. The woman had eyes that were the shade of emerald jewels, alluring anyone with the treasure of her warm and kind spirit.

"... No," Blossom murmured to herself at the sad acknowledgment she made.

The woman had to be Butch's mom. Caroline Lumpkins. A woman she had only seen in photographs during her rare visits to Butch's home.

She was going to die a year and a half from now. A death in which was ruled a car related accident caused by the driver. She had apparently fallen asleep at the wheel after having dinner at a friend's home and crashed into one of the pine trees by the lake.

As Blossom kept her gaze on her, the redhead had a gut feeling the car accident was not Caroline Lumpkins' fault. There was foul play involved. The type of foul play consisting of Him's manipulation.

Her mom seemed to have taken interest in Caroline too, dragging a waddling Sedusa along with her to start up a conversation with the petite woman.

Blossom made the move to get closer to the girls to listen in on their conversation. She stood silently in the middle behind Caroline and the dark-skinned woman. Unknowing to her mom, her future daughter was peering into the eyes of her younger self.

"Carol, it's been so long," her mom commented, placing a hand on the dark-haired woman's shoulder.

"I know," Caroline smiled happily. She let out a blissfully sigh before speaking more, "My little man keeps me occupied most days. I still can't believe in two months he'll be a year old."

"Well, I can't believe you and Fuzzy decided to have a kid at twenty-one," her mom remarked, removing her hand from Caroline and using it to twirl one of her own curls. The passive aggressiveness was quickly read by everyone. "Don't you worry about being stuck as a housewife for the rest of your life?"

Caroline shrugged her shoulders, "I don't mind the idea at all. Being someone's mom has always been a dream of mine."

Her mom grimaced for a brief moment before saving face.

"That's… _cute_."

"Thank you," Caroline replied, not reading too much into Sara Bellum's expression nor did she care to have done so as she wanted to remain in a polite nature.

"Having a kid young doesn't mean you will be reduced to a housewife," the dark-skinned woman next to Caroline pitched in. "It's the nineties, Sara. Not the fifties. Children don't have to be a handicap to a woman's career anymore."

"Really, Heather? Because Rex made his wife quit her job last year before she got pregnant in order to better prepare herself to produce him a heir to Morbucks Industries."

Heather rolled her eyes, "That's because Rex is a misogynistic asshole—which, I don't understand why you even dare to be associated with someone like him."

Her mom shrugged off her comment, "He has good connections."

The dark-skinned woman arched an eyebrow with interest. "So he _is_ the one who got you the internship with the Senator in California?"

"It's possible," Sara replied sheepishly, taking a sip of her wine cooler.

It was cherry flavored.

"And what kind of favors did you have to do for a 'connection' from him?"

"I got the internship all on my own merit, actually. But I do wish you would believe I am above such behavior, Heather. Especially when considering he is married," her mom retorted. It seemed as if the moment was growing sour but her mom let out a smirk. "However, that doesn't mean I haven't gone down that path once before, but a girl doesn't kiss and tell."

Blossom rubbed her arms uncomfortably. Her mom and Princess' dad? _Yuck_. Double yuck to him cheating on his wife—which in present time, Blossom understood why she ended up divorcing him. In fact, the redhead was glad his ex-wife ended up getting one-fourth of his fortune and half of their shared properties in the divorce.

Heather and her mom exchanged a round of laughs while Butch's mom seemed uncomfortable by the conversation material. Sedusa's attention was not with them. Instead, her eyes were shifting over to her previous location. A hand rubbed her stomach in a protective nature.

"Bellum, I swear for someone who likes to be seen as a goody-goody, you get around more than a lion in a field full of injured gazelles."

"I suppose so."

"Hey, you get no shame from me—well, maybe just a little for willingly doing anything with Rex," Heather continued, putting up her hands to signal no harm. "But as long as you stay away from Harold, then I'm good."

Harold Boogieman. Brute's dad. So that was Brute's mom, Blossom confirmed to herself.

Her mom scrunched her nose up in disgust, "No offense but I'm not hooking up with a busboy."

"Well _that_ busboy happens to be the smoothest guy around and gets me free cheese fries whenever I want," Heather countered. Her hands were on her hips now. "So I'll happily take him any day."

"To each their own," her mom said after a beat. She took another large swing of her cherry flavored wine cooler.

Blossom innately grimaced at the action.

"So are you excited to leave for California?" Caroline asked, attempting to change the conversation.

"I've been waiting to get out of Townsville since I was five, Carol," her mom answered with a certain bite. "And I need to get out of this godforsaken town before I become a useless housewife like my mother."

An awkward atmosphere gathered around the four girls, produced by Sara's words. To all of them, it could have been taken as a subtle dig directed at Caroline and her life choices. Or perhaps it was towards the soon to-be-mother in Sedusa. Her mom, however, did not seem regretful for what she had said.

"Well, I'm glad you're getting what you want," Caroline remarked genuinely. A warm smile on her lips.

"I heard that Senator you're working for is quite a looker," Heather added, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, he is," her mom smirked devilishly. "He's a total silver fox at the age of thirty-seven and used to play football back when he attended USC. Plus, his mind is brilliant and all. His strategy to gerrymander the Bay Area is in my top ten of state-based political moves."

Blossom felt gross listening to her mom talk about the man who would later become her father. She always thought what happened between them was a heat of the moment type of thing. Hearing this conversation, made Blossom realize how her mom had adulterous thoughts way before meeting her dad. It was pre-planned and knowing her mom, she must have been hellbent on hooking up with him.

Furthermore, seeing how much her mom wanted to leave Townsville and knowing the fact she did not, made Blossom question her mom's intentions. All those years of overbearing support to Blossom getting an education outside of Arizona, now seemed to have underlying wants behind them. It was not genuine. It was a push for what her mom truly wanted. Not for Blossom, but for herself.

The more she learned about her mom, the more Blossom wished none of it was true. That this was actually an alternative reality and not the past. It was easy for her to connect her mom's role in Him's plans yet to accept the idea of her mom being an all around garbage bag of person was not so effortless.

However, Blossom knew at one point in the future she would have to accept this _was_ who her mom was— _and still is_.

Heather appeared profoundly upset about her mom's praising his use of gerrymandering for a moment before asking a question.

"So you're not going to—" Olive eyes darted over to across the beach. To the same location Sedusa had been sneaking peeks at the entire time. "Finish business here first?"

"I'm working on it," her mom said with a wink.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. Did her mom not know Sedusa and—But if she _did_ know, then that would mean...

She shook her head, not wanting to conjure up _that_ image in her head. Blossom, however, grew tired and disgusted by her mom's behavior. If this was how she acted at the age of twenty-one, then she understood why her mom ended up the way she did.

Blossom looked to the pair of males by the bonfire. At this point, she rather listen to anyone but her mom.

She walked over to Jonathan Utonium and the mysterious man. The two were carrying on a hushed conversation.

"I think we'll be fine," Professor Utonium eased.

"No, no, no. You don't understand, John. This lake. This place. It is cursed. Bad things will happen if we are here too late. We should leave before the night grows too old. If we don't, we'll be doomed like the others," the short man advised. His dark eyes were glazed over with petrified fear.

"Others?"

"Yes, others," the man nodded. "So many have died here. So many have perished for mysterious reasons. They all are apart of the curse. And I, _Morris Jojo_ , do not want to be cursed. I do not want to lose my life."

Morris Jojo…

Blossom let out a deep, exhausted breath. A hand ran through her long orange hair as she processed the information.

This was why Morris was in a coma. Him had done something to him. Perhaps he was punished for not going along with his schemes. Or for leaving Townsville as Dick Hardly and Heather Boogieman had done.

Blossom immediately thought of Brick. He was going to be devastated when hearing about this.

Rose-colored eyes danced across the beach, realizing there were way too many generational connections to Him than she originally thought.

Her mom, Butch's, Brute's, Buttercup's…

Boomer's dad, Princess', Buttercup's…

Now Brick's foster dad.

She was not sure if it was pure coincidence or if Him has manipulated their lives somehow to parallel their parents in a way.

Either way, her friends… Butch… Brick… They all had to be told the truth. Two of their parents were murdered. Two physically abandoned their children, while another did it emotionally. Two were laying in bed with a demon. One was in a coma.

All of this pain inflicted onto them. All the trauma they experienced in their youth. The bizarre behaviors their parents exhibited. Regardless of what the cause and effect implemented from the choices made in the future were, after this night it all derived from one single root problem.

 _Him._

"Morris, if this was true, then why doesn't anyone in town know about it?"

"They do! Those who remember the _sinful seven_ deaths of _1957_ , they know the truth. Those who saw the photos from Deborah Roberts' lost camera, they know. City Hall, they been covering it up, John! For decades! They have been hiding their deaths for many, many, many years! They don't want us to get scared. They don't want people to leave Townsville. They want us to stay and believe everything is fine." Morris stared into his friend's eyes like a laser. "John, if we don't leave now, everything will not be fine. It never will be again for us if we stay."

From the face Jonathan was making, Blossom could tell he was debating on whether to take Morris seriously or not. Blossom wanted to shake his shoulders and tell him that Morris was right. That if he did not leave right this moment, he was basically signing his own death wish.

After taking a few moments to process, John gave Morris a nod.

"Okay. We'll leave." His eyes went to the girls. "Let me say goodbye to Sara and Sedusa first."

"I advise that you make it quick," Morris replied, presumably agreeing to Professor Utonium's terms.

The dark-haired male took steps towards the girls who, at the same time, broke away from Caroline and Heather in favor of the cooler. Blossom went over to them likewise.

"Did you really have to be that harsh to Caroline?" Sedusa muttered to her mom.

Sara rolled her eyes, "Does it matter? She's the one making awful decisions. Who spends three years making moves to get into law school, only to throw it all away for the 'love' of her life and to start a family? Especially for that bumpkin of a husband she has." Her mom took a moment to scoff at the ridiculousness of the idea. Her eyes shifted downward to Sedusa's stomach, a cool expression on her lips. "If I was her, I would have headed straight towards the nearest abortion clinic instead."

Sedusa rubbed her temple, obvious irritation struck across her face. "I surely hope to hell you never become a parent."

"Good thing I intend not to," Blossom's mom replied sharply before opening another cherry wine cooler.

Blossom did not know what was worst. Her mom's preference in flavor of wine coolers, her treatment towards her "friends" who had different lifestyle choices, her incredibly questionable decisions when it came to men, or discovering the fact she never wanted to become a mom. It could be all four; although, to a normal person, the wine cooler would not be seen as a true equal to the other factors.

The redhead did not understand, if her mom was so adamant about not having children, how was Blossom alive today? What had possibly changed her mind? It could not have been her dad since he has never truly been in the picture to begin with. So what had it been?

"I hope I'm not interrupting," John had said when approaching the pair.

Blossom watched as her mom flashed a flirtatious smile while Sedusa seemed to avoid any eye contact with him. The hem of the vermilion top she wore was more interesting as she failed to stop it from sliding upward to her protruding belly button.

"Of course not," Sara purred. "In fact, I was hoping we could have a chance to speak privately later tonight?"

"I would love to b—"

"Great," her mom smirked.

Her fingers danced along Professor Utonium's shoulder as she moved pass him. She gave him a wink before turning around and joining the three males by the shoreline without hearing the rest of his sentence.

John hesitantly glanced at Sedusa with a confused expression as the dark-haired girl let out a long sigh.

"She's trying to sleep with you tonight," Sedusa said flatly.

"She–Whoa, what? Why–With me?" John pointed at himself. His eyes were bugging out of his head uncontrollably. "I don't… Um…Doesn't she _know_..."

Sedusa narrowed her eyes. It was not at John. No, it was clearly towards the curly-haired ginger.

"She knows about what happened."

"Then, um… why would she want _me_?"

"Most will think it's because she 'had' a thing for you since high school, but if you truly know her, you'll know it's because she likes to be the first at everything."

John blinked at her in response. His mouth hung low in shock until he realized what Sedusa may have implied. His jaw tightened together as he swallowed harshly.

"There's, um, there's a competition–" He strung together his words skeptically. His head was tilted to a degree, not believing any words he was saying. "For me? Me of all people? _Why?_ " He exaggerated the final question loudly.

Sedusa kicked at the pebbles on the beach. She, once again, was unable to meet his eyes.

"You know that Sara and I have been 'best' friends since we were children despite our two year age difference, right?" Professor Utonium nodded. His perplexed state remained unbroken. "Well, over the years I would think I have a pretty good grasp on how she is as a person. She's educated yet conniving. Well-mannered but has no regard for anyone except herself. Knows how to work a room and does it intimidatingly well. _Men too_. She could have a person eating out of the palms of her hands after one conversation. That's how good she is at communicating and working people. But most importantly, I've come to notice whatever I may want, Sara sees it as a contest between us. And she _always_ comes out the better half."

Jonathan swallowed harshly again. He lowered his chin. His eyes trying it's best not to gaze down at the growing bump of her stomach. "But if this was a competition, you… _We_ …"

Sedusa hugged herself in comfort. "Sara is relentless. Knowing we hooked up once… it made her even more crazed with the idea of making you fall in love with her… just as much as I am with you…"

"You're… you're in love with me?" He breathed lowly in disbelief. "I'm just some nerd and you're…" Sedusa finally met his eyes, arching an eyebrow. "You're... _you_ ," John finished nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't know why, okay? All I know is that you're the nicest and most respectable guy in Townsville. You've always been interested in what I have to say, even when most of my conversations consist of hairdressing and makeup. And you… You've never looked at me as if I was a slab of meat like most guys do or simply Sara Bellum's friend. I don't why you would since everyone else does, but you do and I can't help noticing it..."

"How do you—Why didn't you say this when we… _you know_?""

"Because I didn't want us to start out how we did," Sedusa confessed despondently. Her head hung low in shame. "I didn't want to be the slut everyone thinks I am. More importantly, I didn't want to be my mother and trap a guy into being with me."

" _Trap_?" John repeated. His charcoal eyes went down to her swollen belly. "That would mean…" he murmured to himself. He took a step closer to her. His hands went to grip her shoulders but he thought against it at the last second. Instead, John ran a hand through his fine black hair. "You told me it was someone else's. You said you didn't want to even consider the possibility of me being the father. Even afterward when I offered to help you out, you pushed me away… You lied to me, didn't you? Why did you lie to me about this?" He questioned desperately. His voice stricken with heart-wrenching pain.

Sedusa shrugged her shoulders, taking a moment to look out over the lake. There was not sense of bitterness or guilt. Instead, she just looked sad.

"I've spent most of my high school years deeply in love with you but I couldn't do anything about it because Sara was always in the way for me. And then you left for MIT and I wasn't going to admit a stupid crush to you when you had better waiting for you in Massachusetts," Sedusa began in a fragile tone. "Whenever you came home from school, those feelings I had for you would come back so strongly, that last winter I couldn't hold them back anymore. New Year's… I was going to tell you everything but instead I impulsively took the easy way out and seduced you. By the time I found out I was pregnant, you were already back at college."

Sedusa paused. Her pasty cheeks were stained with warm tears. Electric green eyes were less vibrant than ever.

"You have a future, John. I wasn't going to have you handicapped by a bimbo from high school who you had a one night stand with. And when you came back home for spring break and found out, all I could do was lie. It took all of the strength within me to do so because I wanted you to not feel forced to be with me. It was fucked up of me to do but John," Sedusa read him carefully. "Be honest with me. I'm not what you would ever want. And having a child now…" She shook her head lightly. "I'm sorry for ruining you. It wasn't my intentions…"

Blossom, despite already knowing how this story went, was hanging on by a thread waiting for him to make a move. Or to at least reassure her.

Her consumption in their interaction prevented Blossom from noticing the red haze slowly filling up the moon like wine pouring into a glass.

"Ruin me?" He whispered softly. "Sedusa, there's a reason why during spring break, I was so willing to be there for you when I found out you were pregnant. Even when you told me it wasn't mine. Part of me hoped you were wrong and it ended up being my child after all. Another also hoped that it would mean I could finally be with the girl I was so convinced was out of my league..."

Sedusa flickered her eyes up to meet his line of vision. Her thin, dark eyebrows lined together. An unreadable expression came over her face.

"You don't mean that."

He tucked a strand of her thick, wavy hair behind her ear. His thumb tenderly stroked her cheek, "I do. I mean every word. I also want you to know that, yes, my schooling is important to me. And I am going crazy from knowing in less than a month, I will have fathered a child into this world—And I will need to take some time to adjust my plans for life. But when it comes down to it, you and our baby are now my future. No matter what. You both are going to be what truly matters to me."

Sedusa folded her forehead. Her stubborn nature unwilling to give into the idea something good was happening to her.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm more sure than ever…"

With determination, he moved forward, cupping her chin and tipping it upward. In a fluid motion, he leaned down. Their lips brushed up against each other bashfully for a few seconds before John deepened it. His free hand found itself on the small of her back. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as she was standing on her tippy-toes. Her enlarged belly pressed into him without any complaints.

Both, too occupied by the moment, failed to recognize the bright light hurling straight towards the lake's beach. It was not until they heard the others scream. Not until Morris forcibly broke them apart, shoving them in opposite directions, did they know what was truly going on.

"It's the curse!" Morris shouted, pushing John in the chest. "The curse is coming! I told you we should have left! I told you—"

Morris did not get to finish his sentence as the meteor had made contact with the shoreline. A blinding white light exploded before their eyes.

Before Blossom's eyes.

It was not long before the white dimmed into darkness for her as the access to the time period began to fade away in her mind.

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

"Bubs, you have to do it! Please just do it!" Blossom pleaded desperately. Her fingers were talons on the blonde's shoulders. The black and gold headband she wore stating _Happy New Year_ was tipped forward, catching strands of her orange hair out of place. Dark mascara stained her pale cheeks. "I can fix this! Just–You just have to give me an adrenaline boost!"

Light blue eyes watched her friend unravel at the seams. Pity and sympathy reflected off of her face.

"Blossom, I can't…"

"We're not going to let her do that," Buttercup added firmly. Her arms crossed but her stare softened at the redness in Blossom's eyes.

"Look, we just lost Brick. We don't need to lose you too," Boomer whispered gently to appease the redhead.

Blossom shook her head crazily.

"Bubs, please," Blossom continued to beg, choosing to ignore Boomer's words.

Bubbles' mouth began to move in reply to her but nothing came out.

Her vision began to grow blurry. Lines and colors warping as if someone had smeared wet paints together. Bubbles vanished from her sight as did Boomer and Buttercup. Light was fading in and out; darkness was surrounding her, inching closer and closer.

The world soon became pitch black. Her mind was moving like a train breaking out of a tunnel, heading straight for the slightest sight of light...

* * *

 _November 9th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom stirred. A groaned expelled from her lips as she lifted her head up from the dining table. Her hand went to massage her forehead. Rose-colored eyes squinted harshly until fully adjusting to the lighting of the room. Her mind was scratchy and lost from the unfinished vision she tapped into.

Where was it—

She jumped at the sound of a car door closing. Her eyes went to the clock on Brick's stove.

It was noon already.

She had been out for six hours…

When Brick walked into his home, a bag of takeout from Otto's in hand and his signature crooked grin, Blossom felt her heart drop to her stomach.

She had to tell him about Mojo.

He arched a perplexed eyebrow when taking notice of the deep frown she held.

"What's wrong?"

"I, um…" Blossom motioned to the seat across from her. Her voice falling right above a breezy whisper. "Perhaps it's best if you sit down first."

Brick did as such. The white paper bag full of food sat on the wood surface. His face matched the expression Blossom felt she may have, but for different reasons.

"Are you, um… _you know_?"

Oh god, he thought she was breaking up with him.

Blossom shook her head rapidly. "No, no, no. I, uh…" Blossom trailed off, choosing not to use the original words her mind thought of. "I _really_ like you, Brick. That's not even a thought on my mind."

"Okay," he said hesitantly, extending the "y" sound. He reached for the food from Otto's as a distraction. A container containing cheese fries and a burger were presented to her, while Brick had a meal of a fried chicken breast with buttery mashed potatoes for himself. He also gave her a strawberry milkshake in a Styrofoam cup. "Then what's going on?"

Blossom nibbled on the tip of her French fry for a moment, discovering she did not have an appetite. Not after the devastation she had witnessed today.

"So, um, while you were gone, my powers got a hold on me and somehow I was able to travel back in time."

His eyebrows shot up. "You can do that?"

"Yeah. Apparently, I can," Blossom sighed tiredly. She combed her hands through her hair, stopping midway as her elbows were propped up on the table. "I went to each time period the blood moon ever arose over Townsville. All of them were devastating, but the group before us… Brick, more than half of our parents were involved."

Brick narrowed his eyes. He slowly chewed his food, swallowing in the same pace. "...What do you mean?"

"Buttercup's dad was not the only one of our parents to die because of Him's influence. Butch's mom did too," Blossom revealed in a shaky breath. "Then Brute's mom and Boomer's dad left their families because of Him's hold over them. Princess' dad… _My mom_ —"

"Your mom is working with Him?" Brick questioned sharply. His hold on the utensils in his hands intensified, turning into a white-knuckle grip. The disdain he held for her mom reflected clearly off of his ruby-colored eyes. "That explains why she _so_ keen on fucking up this town without any remorse."

Blossom took in a deep inhale, unable to meet his eyes to confirm the truth. "I know…"

Despite everything. Despite what her mom has said and done, it was hard for Blossom to make the distinctive cut to their relationship.

It should have been when she learned about her mom's affair with Bubbles' dad.

When Brick revealed her mom's sabotage and public outing of Mojo.

She should snip at the string after seeing _who_ her mom truly was at her age.

Blossom, for the life of her, wished she could not love her mom anymore. She wished she could be like Brick and display the disgust towards her mom externally. She wished there was not a flame inside her that held onto the hope and belief her mom was not _that_ bad. That she could be redeemable at some point if Blossom advised her correctly.

It was hard to make the dignifying cut from one's parents. No matter what, they would be a cloud looming over their child's life. Anything Blossom could do, she would end up finding another thread to her mom.

She was always going to be Sara Bellum's daughter, after all. A fact, in which, she was no longer proud of.

A fact she wished could be wiped away from her life.

"Sweetheart," Brick said gently. His momentarily expression of detesting emotions were quickly replaced by his concern for Blossom. A open hand slid across the table, presenting itself to Blossom. The redhead girl let out a small smile, her petite hand taking up the space in his wide palm. "...I'm sorry."

"I am too," Blossom murmured. The brief smile she held faltered greatly. "I… I saw Mojo when I traveled back." She felt Brick squeeze her hand in a reflex. His hand forgetting it was holding another as it continued to hold her in a tight grasp. "He was there. He was apart of the group, Brick. I'm sorry…"

Brick removed his hand from her's. It joined his other as the palms of his hands rubbed his face. He leaned back in his chair as he did this, rocking on the back two legs before flattening it back onto the ground. His hands ran through his hair, pulling harshly on his roots.

"It makes so much fucking sense now," Brick said critically to himself. "Why Mojo wanted to come back so badly. Why he had a heart attack out of nowhere. Why Him knew when and what to offer me as a deal even before the night at the lake... My whole life since coming to Townsville… it has been determined by Him. I've been his little puppet this entire time…"

"Brick—"

"Fuck!" He cursed. His fist slammed into the dining table. The contents on top of the wooden surface jumped up an inch from the action. "I caused this! Him knew I would be desperate enough to take any offer if Mojo wasn't in the picture. I should have…" He choked on his words, burrowing his face in his hands. "I could have… Fuck!"

Blossom went into autopilot, rushing over to Brick's side. She brought a chair to laid right next to his', her arms wrapped tightly around him in support. Her hand rubbed small circles into his back as he leaned into her embrace.

"You didn't know," she whispered into his ear in an attempt to ease his pain but Blossom knew there was no way to do such a thing.

Brick already harbored feelings of remorse from not being there when Mojo had his heart attack. Knowing he may have initiated Him's reasoning for tampering with Mojo's health, Brick was never going to be the same.

If Boomer was correct and Brick was in a dark place, then Blossom knew this piece of information was capable of sending him into a downward spiral.

It was capable of bringing out the worst in him.

Brick cleared his throat, restraining his sniffles quite well. He removed his hands from his face, laying them down on his lap. Blossom pulled her head back, tracing her eyes over his profile.

"I saw Him a month ago…" Brick confessed in a breath. The fingers in his lap tapped anxiously against the gray fabric of his jumpsuit. "It was not necessary for me to go but I felt compelled to tell Him that I was no longer going to aid him. Now I know why I felt such a way. He still has his claws in me." Brick pointed a finger against his head. "Somewhere in here, Him knows each and every doubt I have ever had about myself. Him knows exactly what button to push to make me feel hopeless. And that's…" He chewed down on his lip for a moment to prevent it from quivering. "That's why Mojo is practically dead."

Blossom cupped his face. Her eyes expressed the love and devotion she held for him. Seeing him heartbroken over the possibility of Him's orchestrating his life, was creating the same effect inside of her.

"There's a chance Him has been manipulating you for years now. There's a chance he has been doing the same with all of us involved. I would like to believe we have free will to do what we want, but how can we be so sure?" Blossom spoke softly. "And I know I wouldn't be able to heal your wounds. I can't say the magical words that could bring Mojo back. But I do hope that you can take comfort in knowing that Him no longer has a hold on you. Even if you think he does, I believe from the bottom of my heart, you are in charge of your destiny now. You, _Brick_ _Jojo_ , have the right to live your life the way you want to."

Brick gently removed her hands, settling them onto his lap. His disheartened state was showing no signs of letting up.

"But what right do I have to live when my life has ended Mojo's right?"

"I…" Blossom blinked at him in response. Her shoulders fell in defeat. "I don't have an answer for that."

Brick inhaled sharply. "I didn't expect you to…"

"I wish I could do more," she whispered.

Brick shook his head in disagreement. "Blossom, no one since Mojo has believed and cared about me like you do. I wish I could do more to show you that. I wish could do more for you."

Blossom extended her hand, moving a piece of scarlet hair out of his eyes. Her hand then slowly slid down the side of his face, caressing the slope of his jaw. The tips of her fingers were gently prickled by the small growth of hair on his face.

"You already have."

For a split second, the corner of his lip tugged upward. For a brief moment, his deep hue of red iris' displayed more than remorse and heartache. And from that small instance, Blossom held onto the hope Brick would be okay.

He would not be today; but someday, he would be.

"At least I know one thing Him hasn't engineered since he's been _so_ adamantly against it," Brick commented, turning to meet her face on. He leaned forward, bumping his forehead against her's.

"And what would that be?" She wondered despite knowing the answer. Blossom simply wanted to hear it be spoken out loud.

"My feelings for you. _What we have_ ," he confessed bashfully. A rush of pink flooded his cheeks as he continued. "So if I truly _do_ have the right to live my life the way I want to, the one choice I willingly make anytime is the chance to live my life with you in it."

Blossom could not suppress the radiant smile she held or the want to swoon from his words. Her thumb wiped away the last remaining wet spot on his cheek, unraveling herself more to the vulnerability of the moment between them.

"Brick, I—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Blossom was interrupted abruptly by the sound of a phone alarm. Brick sighed, digging his hand into one of the pockets of his jumpsuit to turn off the alarm.

"I have to get back to work," he sighed.

"Are you sure you're okay to go after…"

Brick nodded reluctantly. "It's not the first time I've gone to work with my head all fucked up by Him. Or when I," his voice dipped to right below a whisper. "Miss Mojo… But you know, sometimes it's better to put on a brave face..."

"You know that doesn't stop me from worrying about you," Blossom pointed out in a concerned murmur.

"You wouldn't be you if you weren't looking out for my well being," he followed.

Brick offered his hand to Blossom, which was accepted, as they both stood up. Her eyes fell back to the table, eyeing her uneaten food and the journal.

"I think I'm going to head home," she decided. "I've had a long day."

"It's only twelve-twenty, sweetheart," Brick chuckled.

"And I've had a long day already," Blossom replied. She removed her hand from his grasp, moving it up to his shoulder. Her fingers played with the short hair at the nip of his neck. "We're going to get through this, Brick. I promise."

The way he looked at her, Blossom had an understanding he wanted to disagree. His pessimism was in it's peak form at the moment. And while Blossom could not know, Brick did not dismiss her words because a part of him clung onto what they truly represented.

Blossom and her words were the last tangent of hope he had left in him. With her, Brick was not completely forlorn despite the mounting evidence as to why he should be.

Despite the feelings inside of him that wanted to give up. Not only on defeating Him but on the pursue of whatever life was supposed to be.

So instead of telling her such complicated things, Brick simply nodded.

"I believe you."

* * *

Blossom leaned back into her desk chair. A unsatisfied sigh was huffed out into the air. An empty container from Otto's sat next to her laptop—she made the mental to note to thank Brick for getting her lunch the next time she saw him.

She had changed out of her sleepwear when getting home. A pair of high-waisted light blue jean shorts replaced her pink fleece shorts while she had put on a bra and kept on Brick's high school gym shirt—as far as Blossom was concerned, she was going to keep this particular article of clothing for as long as she could—which was French-tucked into her shorts.

Her mom, thankfully, was not home nor has been back from work since Blossom had taken comfort in her own room. The absence of her material figure postponed the fight Blossom surely knew was approaching the both of them. Furthermore, it gave her time to carefully decide on what to say to her mom.

Was she going to outright tell her mom what she knew and believed or should she get her mom to confess her version of the truth?

The latter seemed the logical way to go about it but after the brewing negative thoughts she felt, Blossom could not be so acceptable of the idea that she would not let her emotions get the better of her. She was going to make the effort not to, but Blossom was not going to pretend it was not an option.

Nor was she going ignore the bubbling conflict within her over whether she still saw any good in her mom. She wanted there to be but what happens if there was not any?

Blossom did not have the answer for such a question. And instead of figuring it out and spending much time dwelling on her mom, she found herself more curious about what Mojo had said since she got home.

She spent most of the afternoon clicking and typing her way through the internet trying to find any ounce of information about the previous victims of Him's predatory nature. Blossom even went to the length of accessing the private server used for City Hall employees—Her mom used the same password for practically everything; _Reagan_ , Blossom's middle name and also her mom's favorite president. Much to her expected disappointment, Blossom found nothing.

There was no words about the "sinful" seven from _1957._ Nothing about a man named Lawrence being engaged to someone called Edith. Any information about a bunker resting under the depths of Lake Canem Loquentes had been wiped away from any official town records.

She did take a moment to consider it might have been hard to transfer certain non-essential documents or newspaper articles to the internet from such a great length of time ago; but then Blossom looked up Deborah Roberts. The only person she had a full name for except for the generation before her.

There was not a whole lot about her. Most of it was articles written by her that had been preserved onto the internet, most consisting of the promotion for the Black Power Movement in the Bay Area.

Then there was her death record made in the city's database. The coroner wrote it off as a suicide under suspicious circumstances.

Blossom felt the temperature in her room drop from reading the lie provided. The sound of Deborah's scream pierced through her mind over and over again.

Mojo was right. Townsville has spent the last century trying to cover up Him's path of destruction. This decision to do such a thing has caused a ripple effect for all of them.

If the town knew about the deaths, perhaps Lake Canem Loquentes would have been forbidden among the citizens way before Brat's tragic death. If her hypothetical was true, there would have been nothing to cover up. There would be no senseless violence in Him's quest for freedom. Him would not have had anyone to terrorize for eighty or sixty years. He would go back to his dimension an immense failure.

Instead, Townsville was doing exactly what Him would want. To keep more secrets. Create mistrust and fear. To make it easier for Him to prey on the native folks of the area.

Blossom wondered, if Him had been able to manipulate Brick's life even before he was chosen by the meteor, then who was to say Him has not been doing the same to the whole town? It was highly possible they did not have to be apart of the blood moon's selection to fall victim to his temptation. Maybe the shortcomings of humanity had been the exact weapon Him has been truly equipped with this whole time.

It certainly would explain why he seemed to decrease in outward aggressive tactics as time went on. The four construction workers were killed on the spot, while Him had let the others live to longer dates until proven useless. In fact, Him did not appear to be willing to get his hands—or should she say claws—dirty anymore. He preferred his "associates" to do his bidding for him more now.

Even his ability to convert regular individuals into obeying him, let Blossom know Him was advanced in the art of exploiting human flaws.

Her mom and Princess' dad were the epitome of greed and pride tied together. Blossom was sure the dangling of power was an easy bargaining tool used for them.

Same with Ace.

Berserk lacked enough empathy to care about her actions. The thought of carrying out Him's wishes were not reflective to her concerns; therefore, the orange-haired girl had no problem with the idea of them.

Or at least it seemed to be. After Brat's death, Blossom was not sure if Berserk was as aloof and receptive to Him's commands as before.

Despite her short time working for Him, Brute had agreed out of cowardliness. Her fears prevented her from truly expressing her opinion until it was too late.

Brat was simply following along with what her friends were doing. Her naive and childish form of decision-making allowed Him to know if he recruited Berserk and then Brute first, the blonde would have no objections to accepting his offer.

Brick—her sweet Brick—was manipulated into isolation. He was forced into a five year period of the returning emotions of hopelessness and heartache. His decision to accept Him's deal was a last ditch effort to capture back the last bit of trust he had in the good of the world.

Him simply feasted on the unrelenting sadness Brick held within him.

Then Butch…

Blossom was not sure what convinced Butch to be okay with Him other than Berserk. The redhead has not lost the thought of how Butch was not foolish enough to blindly be coerce into ruining humanity because of a girl. Even if he was in love with her, Blossom had a hard time believing it.

This was Butch. The same Butch who planned to attend pastry school once Him was no more. The boy who watched way too many cartoons and was able to get the most grumpiest person to crack a smile—Hell, he got Berserk, the most unfeeling person Blossom has come to know, to fall head over heels in love with him. The one who has taken care of his dad ever since the age of thirteen. Blossom could not even grasp on how Butch planned to go about annihilating the human race when he could not bare the idea of leaving Fuzzy alone for a few months.

How was he supposed to behave when his dad perished along with the other citizens of Townsville when Him broke through the gateway from his dimension?

Even when he betrayed her friends before her very own eyes. Even when Butch had physically harmed Buttercup and tried to do the same to Brick. Even when everyone wanted her to, Blossom felt deep in gut that Butch was incapable of falling for Him's tricks.

He had too much of a good heart.

Which made his actions hard for her to make sense of…

 _Make sense of everything…_

Blossom widened her eyes at the remembrance of those very words from him. She dipped her head back, glancing out of her bedroom window. The sun was about thirty minutes away from setting.

The redhead abruptly stood up from her desk. She grabbed her car keys and wallet. Her phone pressed up against her ear as she shuffled her feet back into her sandals.

An anxious breath escaped from her lips as the other line picked up on the fourth ring.

" _Buttercup,_ are you busy right now? There's somewhere we have to go…"

* * *

 _November 9th_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"Blossom, do you mind telling us why we're at Citiesville airport?" Buttercup questioned gruffly from the passenger seat. Her arms were folded while light green eyes narrowed at their surroundings in a suspicious manner.

Blossom had called her at the right time. Her dark-haired friend had just gotten out of work when she picked up her call. The same with Bubbles, who had the day off for once—unfortunately, Boomer was busy helping with the preparation for White Kitty's closure.

The blonde sat in Blossom's backseat. A woolly sweater dyed a bubblegum pink hugged the curves of her body as she kept her mouth closed the entire car ride.

Blossom was somewhat shocked when Bubbles agreed to come with them since the blue-eyed girl has been withdrawn as of late. The redhead, however, did not fault Bubbles for feeling such a way though.

"We're meeting up with someone," Blossom replied as she turned down the same dirt road her and Brick had taken over two months ago.

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows aggressively, " _Who_?"

Blossom kept her lips tight. Her rose-colored eyes focused on the green _Mustang_ they were approaching. On to the tall, dark-haired male who was leaning against the vehicle. The amber glow of the sun settling in for the night outlined his silhouette beautifully.

She heard Buttercup's growl from the sight of Butch.

"We're meeting up with him," Blossom said after parking the car. She glanced through the rear-view mirror to find Bubbles' with her mouth agape.

"Unless we're beating him up, I don't want to hear shit he has to say," Buttercup dismissed venomously.

Blossom shrugged her shoulder, "That's fine. You can stay in my car without the AC running while I do talk to him."

"You wouldn't dare," Buttercup remarked.

The redhead removed her keys from the engine, jingling them for a moment to show Buttercup how serious she was. Blossom then unbuckled her seat belt and opened her car door. Her neck craned to meet Bubbles' eyes.

"You coming, Bubs?"

The blonde chewed down on her bottom lip. Her light blue eyes stared out at the person not involved in the conversation.

"I am," she said quietly, freeing herself from the seat belt holding her in.

"Are you sure you don't want to at least hear what he has to say?" Blossom asked Buttercup sincerely as Bubbles exited the car. The redhead felt it would be incredibly beneficial if Buttercup did entertain the idea to at least hear what Butch had to say. At least, she hopes it would be...

Buttercup's eyes grew sharp as she took a minute to make her decision. Her fingers pushed eject on her seat belt.

"You're on my shit list, Blossom," she seethed

"When aren't I?" The redhead sighed.

Buttercup grumbled incoherently under her breath as a response before stepping out of the car and making the conscious effort to slam her door.

Blossom took a moment to take in a deep inhale. To take a moment to hope this was not a mistake. That they would hear exactly what she believed.

That her gut feeling about Butch was right after all...

* * *

"That was…"

Blossom could not find the right words to express what she felt over the shared conversation between Butch and them. Her rose-colored eyes watched his car travel past them after parting. A million different thoughts raced through her brain as she continued to follow his red taillights in her rear-view mirror until he was longer in sight.

"I don't believe a word he had to say," Buttercup scoffed. The dim light of Blossom's car radio illuminated her face as the night sky had taken over the space.

The stubborn look she had during the entire conversation was still present. Light green eyes tried to mask over the pain she has dealt with for a month by letting her outrage shine brighter.

"Did you listen to what he said, Buttercup? He's—"

"I don't give a fuck," she said flatly, shaking her head. "Butch is never going to be able to make up for what he did. And I can't believe you're giving him the benefit of the doubt."

"I'm not—"

"You kind of are," Bubbles pitched in softly.

Blossom met her light blue eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Her shoulders fell in defeat.

"Okay, maybe I am. Is that so bad? Is it bad that I want to believe Butch is the same Butch we know and love?"

Buttercup scoffed loudly. "Yes, it is. If he can easily turn on us like he did—"

"But that was—"

"Again, I don't give a fuck, Blossom," Buttercup interjected sharply. She was fuming from the redhead's attempts of conviction. "Butch…" The dark-haired girl let out a breath to expel the trapped up agony within her. "He can't be trusted. Not then and _especially_ now."

The sound of her car's air conditioning and the low volume of a rock ballad sung by a former boy-band member playing on the radio nullified the silence between the girls. A looming and thick tension enveloped them in the compact vehicle, hugging them until they were left breathless.

"...I think you're wrong," Blossom said lowly after a long moment.

Buttercup rolled her eyes greatly. She threw her hands up in the air to express her disdain. "Of course you do. You're the one who thought it was a _fucking_ great idea to come out here to hear a bunch of bullshit."

"It was to help us figure out things with Him," the redhead replied in offense. "More importantly, I was hoping it would help _you_ , Buttercup. That's why I called you."

"Alright, that's it," Buttercup remarked furiously. "Blossom, I've never asked for your help. And I never will because I'm sick and tired of your meddling. Do you ever get tired of never minding your own business? Of fucking everything up because your damn _ego_ believes you know the answer to everything?"

Blossom leaned back into her car seat, wounded by Buttercup's words. Her mouth left agape.

 _Her ego?_

"That was a little much, Buttercup," Bubbles said under her breath.

"Well excuse me if she never learns. Even her boyfriend knows it too."

"Leave Brick out of this," Blossom responded protectively.

"Why? You thought it was okay to bring Butch into this. To make me talk to him after everything he has done to me," Buttercup said. Her voice cracking more and more as she spoke. Her light green eyes were growing wet. "He tore my heart out of my chest and fucking stomped on it! And _you_ thought this would provide me with closure? _How dare you, Blossom?_ How fucking dare you?" Buttercup let out a wryly chuckle. "You've really lost sight of reality."

Blossom felt a dagger slip into her chest. The turning of the blade expelled an excruciating pain. The acknowledgment of she having lost sight of reality, as Professor Utonium had done, was eclipsing her fears. She did not want to become Professor Utonium but perhaps she was already there. Her blind need to fix has been her downfall. A fault Buttercup easily picked up on and pointed out.

"Buttercup, I'm—"

"I don't want an apology," she remarked bitterly. Bubbles extended her hand, providing it as a gesture of support on Buttercup's shoulder. "You already made it clear how you have no regard to how I feel."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. "But I'm trying to," she exasperated. "I'm trying to do what's right for everyone. I'm trying to be a good friend to you but also to Butch. I thought coming here would give you answers and help you heal. I didn't know…" Her eyes softened as a tear rolled down Buttercup's olive skin. "It's hard to keep up with you lately. What Bubbles said about you pushing all of us away, it's happening and I'm terrified about losing you." She glanced over to Bubbles who stared out at the chain-link fence in front of them through the front window of the car instead. " _The both of you, actually_. I know what happened on Halloween was—"

"Someone died, Blossom. Try and have some empathy," Buttercup muttered.

Blossom narrowed her eyes, " _I am_. I'm doing this to make sure Brat didn't die in vain. It's not like I've forgotten what happened. I _never_ can. Not when I see her and her blank stare in my dreams every night since. Not when I have seen each and every one of the ones I love die because of Him. So maybe I haven't given myself enough time to grieve. Maybe I've become partially numb to death as time goes by. But you're not going to fault me, Buttercup. You're not going to sit here and point a finger at me. I do that enough to myself and, from doing so, I've come to terms that I need to move forward. Especially when trying to figure out a way to stop Him's endgame, has kept me from losing myself in the atrocities I've seen and felt," Blossom said steadily, even though she was not particularly sure if her last sentence was the truth.

It was more for trying to convince herself than Buttercup and Bubbles, the redhead acknowledged. It still did not calm her fears towards losing her sanity in the same manner as Professor Utonium had done.

Buttercup rolled her eyes at Blossom's words. An action caught quickly by the redhead. Blossom gritted her jaw together, pressing her nails into the skin of her palms to help her suppress the bubbling anger in her system. Deep breaths were taken into her system. She was not going to lash out.

She was not going to lose control and turn against Buttercup.

That was exactly what Him would want.

"Why are you being like this?" The pink-eyed girl asked tiredly. "Why be difficult when we need each other…" Blossom's eyes widened when the answer instantly came to her. " _You're trying to push me away_. You want me mad at you so it's easier for you. Aren't you?"

Buttercup avoided her eyes, glancing down at her lap.

"I rather distance myself from all of you than have to experience the full effect of losing you when the time comes," she muttered after a long pause.

"...You sound like your mom."

Buttercup's eyes shot up immediately, giving Blossom a nasty glare.

"How fucking dare you compare me to her?" She seethed.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. How you've both have been handling Him, it's quite similar," the redhead said neutrally. "You both cope the same way."

There was a silence entrapping them. Green and pink eyes dueled each other, waiting for one to apologize. One to snap. Or for one to have a breakdown.

Buttercup shut her eyes for a moment, counting quietly to herself to calm down. She huffed out a breath of hot air, bringing her tone down to a respectful manner instead of the harsh one she has held the entire time.

"There's no way to come back from this," she mumbled, avoiding Blossom's all too accurate accusation. "I told you at school to drop it but you never do. Do you need another one of us to die for you to understand there's zero chances of us winning?"

"No—"

"We had a talk," Bubbles interrupted softly. Her hand was back in her lap. The tips of her fingers were rubbing away the frost growing under her nails. A habit the blonde has picked up since acquiring her powers. "Me, Buttercup, and Boomer. We all decided it's time for us to give up. What happened to Brat…"

Blossom hugged herself, rubbing her arms to warm herself. Her breath was visible in the air as was Buttercup's. The windows of the car were gathering thin layers of ice from the inside. The dark-haired girl turned on the car's heater to combat Bubbles' passage of bone-chilling air.

"It was devastating enough. If that happened to one of you…" Light blue eyes glazed over from the imagined horror in her head. She shook her head lightly, waning the control her dark thoughts had over her. "I don't want to experience it. And the longer we keep engaging with Him, the more likely it's going to happen. So the three of us think it's better if we went out like the rest of the world in one big, catastrophic event than go through the torture Him may cause to all of us."

Blossom blinked at Bubbles and then Buttercup.

Like her classmates, a part of her wanted to envy them. How they could be able to forget the tragedies of the past with each new time loop and mind swipe while Blossom was unable to control the replaying of such. Of how they could properly mourn while the redhead felt she was going to become the worst version of herself if she allowed such a thing to occur.

But unlike the conviction she held during her class period of needing to move forward and save everyone, Blossom felt herself slowly become less encouraged. The sparks of hope within her were starting to burn out from the horrors of the past and a lack of mutual aspirations from her friends for a better future.

She was teetering off of the edge of becoming Him's dream while they had no clue about what the inter-dimensional demon truly wanted from them.

Blossom wished she could be ignorant like them. She wished she could make the easy decision to give up.

Yet, Blossom could not sit idly by. Not when the fate of the Earth rested on their hands. Which brought about the part of her that was saddened by her friends' valid but ultimately selfish decision.

"You all made up your minds already," she said slowly. "How could you just give up? Don't you care about saving everyone? _To live your lives the way we should_?"

"Because we're being realistic, Bloss," Buttercup said. Her hand ran through her short, black hair. "It took me awhile to realize this but I was actually _happy_ before all of this," she confessed frailly.

Her voice was scratching greatly from the grains of emotions caught in her throat. She swallowed a hard lump before continuing.

"Sure, my dad is dead and I was stuck working a brainless job, but my life had everything I needed. Friends who I care immensely about and who feel the same way about me. A roof over my head and a chance at a higher education. No threats of a demon who wants to prey on my life and my friends'. No powers or stupid side effects to worry about. A boy who treated me like I was the most fascinating thing in the world. Someone who made me excited about life again after my dad passed. Now… _now_ I just feel empty." Bloodshot light green eyes narrowed at Blossom. "And I could fantasize about the past or dream of an unattainable future, but instead I want to live in the few moments of happiness I may have left until Him takes over. I," she nudged her shoulder in Bubbles' direction. " _We_ are choosing to enjoy the present. That's the part you can never understand. You never want to be in the moment and that's why we didn't include you in our decision."

"I…" Blossom trailed off as she was left speechless.

What was she supposed to say?

Buttercup's confession had gutted her into pieces, leading her to second guess everything in an instant.

They had every right to the decision they had made. More so, there was a chance they were right.

Blossom, more out of all of them, has seen the terror Him was capable of.

The manipulation. The gorier. The chaos…

Her questions towards the purpose of the time loop seemed to solidify the rational behavior made between her three friends. If her visions have shown Him to have the edge over them each and every time, then they were correct.

Perhaps, they were not destined to defeat Him. Maybe their destiny was to be the reason Him was set free and there was no use in avoiding their fate anymore.

Blossom was lost. She was able to finally admit it to herself that she had nothing left to turn to. No new lead. No plan or vision to use to their advantage.

All she had was the one thing she has avoided the most: _the present._

"Can you take us home now, please?" Bubbles inquired gently after another long period of silence.

Blossom, again, had nothing to say. Her mind too stunned and overloaded on what was right or wrong. On whether the notion to let go of Him to enjoy the month and a half they left was her best option.

So instead, the redhead nodded. Her hands gripped firmly on the steering wheel.

"Okay…"

* * *

 _November 9th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

The drive back to her house was a blank one. Her mind had been empty from the moment Bubbles requested to go home to her pulling up into her driveway.

Nothing made sense to Blossom anymore. The moment she felt as if she was making gains in defeating Him, it all came tumbling back down.

Not since Henry has the redhead felt so defeated and exhausted.

She needed sleep. _Desperately_.

Anything to give her a momentarily freedom from the life she was living. Even if it was for a few hours as she has been cursed with since Him's unwanted arrival into her reality, Blossom wanted and needed sleep.

Those thoughts, however, were dropped the moment she entered her home.

"Blossom," her mom called out from in the kitchen. "Come to the nook. We have somethings to discuss."

Blossom closed her eyes, leaning back against the door in regret. She had failed to mentally register the other car in the driveway when she pulled up.

The conversation she has been dreading was here.

The talk, in which, the redhead was firmly in the belief would forever change her relationship with her mother.

She took slow steps into her kitchen and to the back table in their breakfast nook. A light overhead kept the room illuminated, contrasting with the darkness invited in by the long, wide windows in the space. Her mom's laptop sat on the circular table filling up the corner. A cup of tea sat next to it. Steam from the hot liquid was traveling up in the air still.

Her mom narrowed her eyes, taking much notice to the shirt Blossom was wearing as the younger redhead took a seat.

" _South Townsville High_ ," her mom read off. "I wonder where you would have gotten such a novelty tee-shirt like that."

"A friend," Blossom responded tightly.

An eyebrow arched at her, meeting her mom's hairline. The reality of her age was expressed more easily by the lines of her forehead when she did such an expression.

"And would this friend be _Brick Jojo_?"

"Is there a problem if it is?" she rebuttal. Her skull was beginning to pound greatly from the tension she has withheld from all of the events of the day. Another migraine for her to enjoy in misery.

Her mom's plump lips pursed together for a moment before giving Blossom an answer.

"Yes, there is."

"Why? Brick is a good guy. I don't—"

"I know you're seeing him, Blossom."

Blossom's mouth closed. Her back leaned into the wicker back of the chair she sat in.

In the past, Blossom had been completely honest with her mom about everything. Her first crush, her first kiss, the first time she tried alcohol, or what happened at a party she attended; she told her mom within twenty-four hours of such events. Her mom had done the same in a way, telling Blossom the truth about her relationship with her dad when Blossom was old enough to get it. There was no secrets between them—or at least, she used to believe there was none.

Blossom liked to see the good in people. The potential they have to do better. But the longer she held her breath waiting for her mom to _do_ more, to become someone else, the sinking feeling of her enabling her mom would take over.

Since coming back to Townsville, Blossom has felt herself grow more tiresome of her mom. Antics she used to ignore or let slid have began to pile up into more and more grievances. She has given her mom way too many chances.

Chances she should have never given to anyone, no matter their relation to her.

"Okay then…"

Her mom let out an exaggerated sigh. A hand went to her forehead as she shook her head in disappointment.

"Honestly, Blossom, I don't know why you're wasting your time with a hick like him—"

Blossom narrowed her eyes. Her face twisted up in defensive outrage.

" _Excuse me_?"

"He's only going to bring you down, honey," her mom retorted in a particularly obvious, condescending tone. "Why would you slum yourself down for a high school dropout, grease monkey like him?"

" _Slum myself down_?" Blossom repeated, followed by a humorless chuckle. "If anything, I feel like I'm a better version of myself when I'm with him." She tilted her head to a degree, an eyebrow arched, "I'm in love with him, mom–"

"Oh, god," her mom muttered under her breath in disdain.

"There's nothing you can say or do that would change how I feel about him. More so, I'm not going to let you dictate who I should be able to see, given _your_ history of romantic choices."

Her mom turned up her nose at the comment, not picking up on what Blossom was implying.

The younger redhead let out a heavy breath, staring down at the fine wood grains of their table.

"... I know you've been messing around with Anthony Keane…"

Blossom waited for her mom to reply. For her to deny it. Or apologize for her actions. Something to give Blossom some sense of morality from her mom; whether it be good or bad.

Instead, when her rose-colored eyes finally glanced up, she found her mom in a blank stare. Her lips pressed together; eyebrows drawn in a straight line. The tips of her nails clicked against the mouse of her laptop.

"That…" Blossom watched as her mom swallowed nervously. It was the first time the redhead has ever seen her mom sweat under pressure. "That does not concern you."

"It doesn't concern me?" Blossom questioned, flabbergasted by her mother's notion. "You're breaking apart one of my best friends' parents' marriage."

"That marriage was over a long time ago," her mom said sharply.

"That doesn't make it okay, mom!"

Her mom rubbed a hand across her face, letting out an exhausted groan.

"Yes, I know. Does that change what has happened? No..." She narrowed her eyes at her daughter. A finger was wagged aggressively in her direction too. "Blossom, I don't know what's gotten into you. _I'm the adult here_. So your opinion is not necessary nor do you even have any authority to discuss my life choices. Furthermore, I'm not going to tolerate this disrespect from you, _little girl_ ," her mom said venomously.

Blossom took a moment to see her mom. To finally _see_ how vile of a person she was.

Her childhood nostalgia and belief in the good has left her so defenseless against the one who gave birth to her for so long. She had believed their relationship has been on an even playing field but, now, her mom has made it clear what she truly thought of Blossom.

She was a child to her. _A little girl._ Too naive and capable of being easily manipulated.

Blossom had flashbacks to unpleasant memories of Henry as she felt sick to her stomach. The further the conversation went on, the more Blossom had decided to not hold back.

To show her mom _just_ how much she has grown up. That she was not a little girl anymore. She was her own person now.

"You're the one who wanted to have a conversation," Blossom remarked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes. To discuss your irresponsible use of your time here." The redhead let out a bitter laugh as her mom continued. "You've lost sight of your future, Blossom."

"Have I? Or have I lost sight of what _you_ want my future to be?" The redhead countered. "You know, since you've basically been using me to live out the dream you weren't able to achieve. To get out of Townsville without any chances of coming back."

"I–You… That is not true," her mom said firmly after stumbling in her wording.

"It is," Blossom nodded harshly. "You didn't want to become your mom. You didn't want to become a housewife. And yeah, sure, you didn't get the ring but you sure did get the child to take care of. The one you never truly ever wanted..."

"Blossom, that's—"

"I'm sick of all the lies, mom," Blossom said defiantly. "I've let it slide for too long."

Her mom blinked at her. It was almost as if she was unable to believe Blossom's hostility. Her eyes reflected off the thoughts attempting to string together a reason for why her daughter was behaving such a way.

When she was not able to find any, her mom's face flashed with hot anger.

"You want to take low blows, honey? _Fine_. Do whatever makes you happy now. But thanks to your actions, your ass is going to be on the next flight back to MIT," her mom fumed. "You can forget about your little friend group or your 'mental break'. More importantly, you will never see that Jojo boy ever again."

"I'm not going back to MIT," Blossom responded flatly.

Her mom rolled her eyes, "Oh Blossom, drop this little hissy fit already. You will do as your told. In fact…" Her mom paused, typing furiously on the keyboard of her computer. "I'm buying you a plane ticket right this instant."

"Mom, don't—"

"It's too late, I've had enough—"

"I dropped out of MIT!" Blossom blurted out.

The adrenaline within her, created by her sudden revelation, throbbed against her skull. Her blood pressure pulsated throughout with great intensity. The rush of a long kept secret being exposed, had peaked and climaxed in one short swing. Her high produced by the rush of adrenaline frizzed out quickly; leaving Blossom with prickly hot skin formed out of embarrassment, a severe migraine in which distorted her vision a little, and a shell-shocked parent.

"You–you _what?_ Her mom stuttered.

Blossom pursed her lips, taking in a calming breath. The feeling of some of the weight on her shoulders had been lifted, making it easier to push through and make complete peace with what had happened.

For her to ultimately forgive herself after months of still wondering what it would have been like if she did not go to MIT in the first place or if she never met Henry. There was nothing she could do to prevent any of her mistakes made a year ago and for once, Blossom did not want to.

Finally telling her mom had brought her to the final stage of acceptance in her grief over MIT.

"I dropped out," Blossom repeated casually. She gathered up her long orange hair, bunching it all together to style it into a topknot. "I got mixed up with this guy and he used me for a paper I wrote. Next thing I know, I was caught for academic dishonesty. Instead of letting him take the fall, I did. The deans then allowed me to drop out instead of expulsion." Rose-colored eyes traced over her mom, finding the elder redhead paralyzed by her description of past events. "I can't ever go back to MIT and I'm fine with that. I've been taking night classes at the community college here and I'm content to be there for awhile."

"I can't…" Her mom rubbed her temples in vigorous circles. "Blossom… how could you have been so _stupid_?"

"For what? For deciding not to ruin someone's life because of a decision I had naively made? I'm not like you, _mom_. I don't take delight in destroying others for sport."

"No! For throwing away an opportunity of an education at one of the finest institutes in the country—"

"There's other schools—"

" _And destroying others for sport_?" Her mom echoed. "Who do you exactly think I am, Blossom?"

Blossom paused for a moment.

She took in her mother's expression. The reflection of frustration and… Pain? Regret? Disappointment?

Blossom was not sure what the second emotion truly was. All she knew was, this was the first time her mom has looked at her in such a manner. It was the first time Blossom has felt as if she had let her mom down.

And it was the singular time Blossom had no stirring amount of guilt from upsetting someone. For speaking her mind instead of reminding diplomatic.

For letting herself be the wildcard instead of the leader.

"Not the person I grew up knowing," Blossom answered after a beat, her head shaking lightly. "I turned a blind eye for too long and after today, I finally know the truth. And when I say I know the truth," the younger redhead leaned forward, staring into the eyes of the one who birthed her with such intensity, her mom had to look away. "I know _everything_."

"Blossom, I think it's best—"

"I know about Him," Blossom interjected coolly. Her face kept up a neutral expression as her mom appeared to have seen a ghost. Or an inter-dimensional demon bent on the destruction of the world, if Blossom wanted to be literal. "I know about your involvement. I know you have been using City Hall budgeting to create a disarray for the town's economics. I know you've allowed the Gangreen Gang to integrate into Townsville without any alert or action made to stop them. I know you probably are messing around with Anthony Keane out of the pure sinful mess it will cause in time. I know City Hall has kept the truth about Him from the public for decades and I'm sure you've continued such a trend. I know you have been Him's puppet for the past twenty years. And I know you outed and ruined Morris Jojo's life because of it—"

"You need to stop, Blossom," her mom interrupted over her.

Her mahogany eyes were in full panic, dancing across the room sporadically. She was fearful of Him making an appearance, Blossom concluded to herself. The younger redhead figured Him must be watching over their conversation but she believed he would not intervene. Not when a fractured relationship between them would simply add to the ever-developing chaos circling around Townsville.

"Let me ask you this," Blossom said lowly, displaying no amount of fright. "What truly happened to Morris Jojo?"

"I can't…" her mom trailed off. A trembling hand scratched her neck nervously. The perfectly manicured image her mom has maintained for years was swiftly coming undone in a matter of seconds. "I'm not allowed to disclose such matters. Not when…" her eyes glanced up to the ceiling. To the sky. To whatever plane of existence Him was taking up in their reality. "What happened to Morris… It has been done and there's nothing that can be fixed."

Blossom blinked at her in response. She gave her a single nod, not feeling blindsided by her mom's response. It was predictable.

Predictable yet still unfathomably disappointing.

But what crossed her mind next, was not.

"...You were the one to encourage the mayor to agree to Professor Utonium's power boxes," she said slowly as the thought came to her quickly. "You saw the blueprints. You _knew_ about the kill-switch to stop an overload of power." Blossom shook her head in disapproval at the realization of her mom being the direct cause of two innocent individuals' lives. For her being the reason Professor Utonium may have been driven mad before his death. "You're responsible for fourth deaths, aren't you?"

"I can't... This is not the time nor place..." Her mom swallowed again. Mahogany eyes appeared glassy as her mom was losing herself in the paranoia of Him making an appearance. "You need to stop..."

The redhead rose from her chair. Her fists clenched together. Rose-colored eyes burned from the displeasure she felt for her mom. From her decisions and her inability to take ownership of them. From her concern being more based on her fears and her heartless jaded answers.

From the lack of regret she expressed.

"I don't know how we're related," Blossom muttered harshly under her breath before making a quick dash up to her room.

Blossom made sure to lock her door as she felt her mom would soon follow her footsteps. The redhead looked around her room, taking in every inch. The feeling of claustrophobia was consuming her the larger she stood there.

The longer she was trapped in this house with her mom and her lies.

Blossom went to her closet. She pulled out a cardinal red duffel bag she purchased before leaving to MIT from underneath a pile of shoes.

"Blossom! Blossom, open the door!" Her mother demanded as she turned the doorknob rapidly with no success. The palm of her hand banged on the door with no signs of relenting.

The sound of her mother's knocking against the wooden frame of the door echoed in her room as Blossom ransacked her drawers, stuffing pieces of clothing and footwear into the bag. In her bathroom, Blossom grabbed her toothbrush, mouthwash, her makeup bag along with lotions and exfoliators, her shampoo and conditioner, a razor, her perfume, and her comb. Once satisfied with packing half of her wardrobe and toiletries, she unhooked both her phone and laptop chargers from their respective outlets, placing the computer and the cords on top of the mixture of fabrics in the narrow bag. She then grabbed her wallet and the translated journal from Buttercup's dad, sliding them down the side of the bag on the inside. In a heavy breath, she zipped up the bag, taking on the great weight of it onto her left shoulder.

She wrapped her lanyard containing her car keys around her wrist. The same hand went to her door handle as she hesitated to open the door. With a deep inhale and exhale, Blossom turned the doorknob, meeting the deranged appearance her mom held.

"Blossom, you are—" Her mom paused, her eyes catching sight of the duffel bag's strap on Blossom's shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Leaving," Blossom murmured. "I can't be here anymore. Not when I know who you truly are."

"Yeah, right," her mom snorted sarcastically. The pointed toe of her heel thumped against the hardwood floors of the hallway menacingly. "Where exactly do you think you can go—"

"That doesn't matter," the redhead dismissed, moving pass her mom to make her way down the stairs. The sound of the click-clacking of heels trailed behind her. Blossom turned sharply, meeting her mom's eyes as she got a hold of the front doorknob. "And don't bother looking for me or convincing me to come back home. If you do, I'll tell everyone the truth about you."

Her mom shook her head in disbelief, "You wouldn't..."

Blossom nodded somberly, " _It's a promise_."

"Blossom, don't—"

The redhead did not bother to listen as she was already out the door by the time her mom tried to appease her. She rushed over to her car, unlocking the doors and throwing the duffel bag in the back seat. Blossom quickly got into the driver's seat, reversing her car out of the driveway while still trying to buckle her seat belt. In a quick glance, she saw her mom out in their lawn trying to race to the car window before Blossom drove way but it was too late.

Blossom hit the gas with no second thoughts. Her mom becoming an insignificant orange dot in her mirrors in the matter of seconds.

Once at a good distance away from her home, Blossom pulled over to the side of the road, grabbing her phone from her back pocket. Her fingers went into autopilot when scrolling through her list of contacts. She pressed the device up against her ear, waiting for the other person to pick up.

They did after the second ring.

"Hey," Blossom greeted. Her voice was raw from all of the arguing and the emotional roller coaster of a day she experienced.

" _Blossom, hey…"_

Even when Blossom felt her entire world having been shaken over the period of less than twenty four hours, the sound of Brick's voice has yet to fail at bringing a smile to her face. It was for that reason why she called him. She needed a moment to breathe before figuring out a new living situation for herself.

" _Shouldn't you be in class right now?_ "

Blossom grimaced at the reminder and for the fact she had forgotten to take her textbooks with her. There was no way she was going to turn around and retrieve them.

"Yeah, I should… I just…" the redhead sighed into the receiver. "I just got into a major fight with my mom and I stormed out with no real plan in mind. I—"

" _Do you have a place to stay?"_ He asked. His voice full of concern in which made Blossom's chest flutter.

"I was going to ask Bubbles but that's a whole other story from today," she mumbled dejectedly.

" _Then come stay with me for the night_ ," Brick said immediately after.

Blossom arched an eyebrow despite Brick not being able to see her. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

She heard him let out a huff of air as if it was ridiculous for her to even think such a thing. " _Yes, I'm sure. Now get over here before anything more happens to you_."

Blossom did not have much to say in return other than an okay and how long it would take for her to be at his house.

* * *

Blossom ran a comb through her damp hair. The droplets from the hot shower she had taken sprinkled all over the counter-top of Brick's bathroom. A few strands of long orange hair collected in the sink from the motions of the plastic comb pulling on her hair. The mirror in front of her was still foggy from the steam of the water, revealing a hazy image of Blossom and the cream-colored tiles of the room behind her.

When she arrived, Blossom avoided discussing what had happened. Her mind was still fried from the day and she wanted a moment to not think about Him or Buttercup and Bubbles or her mom.

Brick did not put up a fight with her decision. Instead, he asked if she had eaten dinner. With her answer being a no, Brick had put together a plate of red beans and rice he had leftover from dinner that night to give to her. Once she stomached at least a quarter of the meal and managed to carry on a light conversation with Brick, Blossom had decided to take a shower to wash away the events of the day.

Blossom placed her comb down on the counter. Her hands went to clean the surface, making sure it was left in the same pristine state it was in before she rolled in. Once done, she gave herself one last glance in the mirror when she was finished. Her eyes traced over the exhausted expression her face held. Dark circles have become an accessory she could not escape from again.

Blossom turned on the faucet of the sink, splashing cold water onto her face to wake herself up. Not from her physical tiredness but from the intruding negative thoughts trying to suppress her. She dabbed her face with the fabric of her towel. A forced smile reflected off the mirror.

If she forced it, then perhaps it would eventually become real. At least that would keep her at bay for the night…

She exited the bathroom. Her hair leaving a large wet stain on the upper back of her cotton nightgown. The blush pink fabric complimented her pasty skin and, thankfully, was designed with a built-in bra.

That matter, however, did not stop Blossom from getting flustered when Brick paused in whatever he was doing on the other side of the couch with a pillow in his hand. A subtle crooked grin formed on his lips as his eyes traveled down from her face to her exposed legs as the gown stopped mid-thigh and then back to meet her eyes. As she did not need to worry about a bra, Blossom was starting to realize the sweetheart neckline and thin straps of the clothing did not leave much to imagine as she would have hoped.

Blossom was sure her face and neck matched the same hue of her nightgown. Perhaps it was even darker than the piece of clothing.

"Please ignore me," she mumbled, darting her eyes to anything but him.

Blossom heard him let out a chuckle. "Alright, alright…"

After taking in a calming breath, she glanced over at him once again, finding that he had been setting up a temporary bed on the couch—which turned out to be a pull out couch. A gentle, appreciative smile tugged on her lips as she made her way over to him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, her head resting in the grove between his shoulder blades.

"Thank you for making me a bed," she said softly. "And for letting me stay the night."

Brick turned around, facing her. Blossom moved her arms, loosely hanging them from his neck. "This was for me. I was going to let you have my room."

"What? No." Blossom shook her head. "I'm already intruding enough—"

"You're not," Brick interjected calmly, his hands taking shape in the soft curves of her hips. "Trust me. If you were, I would have no problem telling you."

"But I don't want you sacrificing your bed for me."

Brick shrugged his shoulders, smoothly dropping his hands to settle on the small of her back. "It's just a bed."

"Still." Blossom pursed her lips. She unhooked a hand from his neck, dipping it down to run along his left bicep. Her mouth moving faster than her thoughts. "We could just sleep in your bed together."

Brick arched an eyebrow, "Are you... um... Are you, uh, okay with that?" His asked awkwardly.

"I, um…" She took a moment to consider the question before nodding slowly. Her rose-colored eyes growing bright and warm when staring into Brick's. "Yeah. I am, actually. Are you?"

A dazzling smile capable of lighting up any room gradually overcame him, replacing his uneasy nature. "Yeah. I don't see any problems with it."

"Great."

"Indeed," he replied in a light manner. His eyes shifted over to the couch. "I'm going to fix that first. I'll meet you in my room in a few."

"Okay," Blossom grinned, pecking his lips sweetly.

She went to his bedroom door, giving him one last glance and smile before entering the space.

In the couple of months they have been seeing each other, Blossom has never gone into Brick's bedroom nor has she expressed any interest in doing so. Two reason were quick to jump out to her as to why: one, Brick was a notoriously private person and she did not want to cross any lines; two, she was not ready for the atmosphere it could create between them.

Now here she was. In the room of the man she loves.

Her eyes absorbed the space, taking in each and every aspect.

Unlike the majority of his home in which the walls were lined in dark wood paneling, his bedroom room was covered in a striped wallpaper, shifting from a sage hue to hunter green. A short but wide dresser was placed next to the door. Six drawers were neatly closed and there was nothing on top of the dresser's surface except for Brick's go-to red hat and a lamp in which was the only source of light in the room. A king-sized bed—along with the two nightstands on each side—took up most of the space in the room. The mattress was covered by a thin chocolate-colored quilt instead of a plush comforter. His closet was diagonally from the bed, closed off by two dark wooden doors. Two large bookcases could be found pushed up against the wall across from the door.

Blossom went over to check out the contents of the shelves. Her finger ran down the spines of several books as she read off the titles.

 _Siddhartha, The Republic, The Art of War, The Prince, Beyond Good and Evil, Critique of Pure Thought..._

She stopped at the work of _Responsibility and the Sentiments._ Her nails dug behind the small space of the book's spine not attached to the pages, pulling the book out of the neat line it existed in along with the other books on the shelf. She flipped open the book as she occupied a space at the foot of Brick's bed.

Blossom was about four pages into the book when Brick came into the room, the same pillow from before in hand as he shut the door behind him.

A smile easily danced across her lips as she glanced up at him, closing the book in the process and sliding it over onto the nightstand closest to her.

"I didn't know you were into philosophy books."

Brick, who had tossed the spare pillow back onto his bed and was opening his closet, threw a look over his shoulder to her, "I'm not really into them. They're all Mojo's…"

"Oh."

Blossom felt the air shift for a moment. It reminded her of the time when she was in Florida. When the air there was so humid and dense, it was impossible not to feel uncomfortable. The pressure would sink into her lungs, making her breathless within seconds.

"I don't know why he was into them so much," Brick replied after a beat to avoid the awkwardness settling in between them. He did not convey the same upset nature he held earlier in the day, but Blossom knew Brick wanted to keep the talk about Mojo to a minimum if he could before it brought him dangerously low again. "I tried reading some stuff from _Aristotle_ and I honestly hated every second of it," he shrugged.

"What? The guy who used to work for a demon isn't fond of reading about morals and ethics? Is that supposed to be surprising?" Blossom quipped with a playful grin.

Brick groaned dramatically, "Please don't."

Blossom let out a small laugh, "Fine, fine. I'll keep my A-plus humor to myself."

" _Right_ ," Brick said sarcastically. A lighthearted grin tugged at the corner of his mouth subtlety.

He turned back to face his closet, stripping himself from the ivory tee-shirt he wore. Blossom averted her gaze for a second, a familiar heat coming to her cheeks. She tried her best to keep her eyes from sneaking another peek at him but Blossom failed miserably.

Her jaw fell an inch as her skin became inflamed by a prickly warmth. She had glanced over when Brick had finished taking off the sweatpants he was wearing, leaving himself in a pair of black boxer-briefs. The tight material hugged a quarter of his well-shaped thighs. His bulge was…

Blossom had to look away as she wiped the sweat of her palms onto the soft material of her nightgown.

"What—" Brick began to say when he took notice to her flustered state, in which allowed the realization to hit him. His hands instinctively went to form a fig leaf to cover his crotch. "Perhaps I should have mentioned that I was planning on sleeping in my underwear?"

"Yeah, maybe so," she said quickly, still not able to fully meet his eyes.

"Would you feel better if I put some shorts on?"

Blossom let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing from the tension she was building up inside of herself from being easily rattled. Her line of vision slowly but surely matching his.

She had to keep his powers and side effect in mind when thinking over the question.

"Not if it makes you feel uncomfortable to sleep in."

"Well, I am about fifteen degrees warmer than the average human and more clothing can become unbearable so I usually sleep naked," he thought out loud while Blossom's eyes bugged out from the image his words brought to her mind. She may have glanced down at his thinly covered package again. Her curious mind getting the best of her. Why, _oh_ , why did he have this effect on her? "But I don't—"

"Then I'm okay with it," Blossom stated hastily, more so to herself than him. Embarrassingly red and all, she was going to get better at becoming more confident with herself and learning to trust someone else in intimate situations.

"Are you sure?"

Blossom took a moment before nodding. She patted the bedding next to her. "Yes. Now come and lay down already."

"So demanding," Brick teased as he made his way over to the vacant left side of the bed and took up half of it. His tall frame almost filled the entire length of the mattress.

Blossom playfully rolled her eyes, taking up the space beside him. She pressed her weight on her knees as she kneeled into the firm bed. Her flushed nature was slowly draining from her system. Rose-colored eyes fluttered lovingly at him, still a bit shocked she was okay with sleeping over her boyfriend's house; furthermore, in the same bed as him while they both barely wore much clothing.

Her issues with the thought of physical intimacy were slowly peeling away the more she was with Brick, and Blossom was silently pleased with herself for the fact. More so, she was gratefully to be with Brick who was more understanding than she could have ever thought for a person.

"Is that a bad thing?" She whispered lowly, leaning closer to him.

A corner of his mouth turned upward. Ruby-colored eyes fell to her lips and then back to her eyes. "I may have grown to be fond of it."

It did not take long for her lips to crash into his. Her arms enveloped his neck, pulling him closer to her. The heat of his skin burned her into a soothing fire. His hands found themselves in the subtle curve of her hips; his fingers digging into the soft, cotton fabric of her nightgown. The breaths in between their kisses were quick and heavy as they grew more starved even with the smallest pull away.

Her body took control over her as she crawled into his lap and straddled him. Her fingers wrapped and tugged on the short ends of his hair. Brick subtlety slouched down, his back laying flat against his bed with Blossom lowering down with him.

Blossom has never truly been drunk before but she has been buzzed once. Kissing Brick was like that one singular time. Her mind was foggy and slow but she felt invincibly happy and warm. As if there was nothing in the world in which could stop her. A true high she had no trouble craving.

She freed a hand from his hair, slowly dragging it down from his shoulder to his chest with a gentle touch. An ember within her began to spark, spreading like a wildfire through her veins. It was a feeling Blossom had experienced maybe once or twice. One she has not felt since MIT.

Because of this, her mind swiftly regained control. The panic button was pressed repeatedly; the brakes to her brief longing were stomped down on harshly.

Her brain then became acutely aware to one of the straps to her nightgown having slipped down her shoulder as she pulled back. The palms of her hands pressed into the mattress as she leaned into them to push herself to sit up. Her thighs, however, remained parted by Brick's torso.

Brick arched an eyebrow at her. His eyes tried to read what was wrong. They soon found themselves following Blossom's. Her rose-colored eyes happened to be fixated on the one loose strap hanging down her upper arm.

Two of Brick's fingers went to the strap, sliding it back onto her slim shoulder before tucking a strand of orange hair behind her ear. Blossom had sat silently as he did this. Her gaze watched him with astonishment.

It was such a simple and gentle action. A touch in which had the capable of making Blossom cry if she had the energy to do so. One gesture that meant more to her than anyone could truly understand.

"...I'm sorry," Blossom murmured after a long, quiet moment.

Brick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I… I feel bad," she sighed. "You're my boyfriend yet I can't handle the strap of my nightgown falling when things get a little physical between us... You deserve more than this."

"You shouldn't have to pressure yourself nor feel obligated to be more physical because of me."

"Yeah but…" her voice grew lower than before. "Don't you want to, _you know_?" Brick chuckled lightly at her innocent choice not to use the word sex. "Aren't I being a tease?"

Brick narrowed his eyes at her for a second. Not out of spite or anger but to see her more proper. To decipher the truth behind her words.

"Henry really messed you up, sweetheart," he said softly.

Blossom's eyes fell down to Brick's chest. "I know," she breathed.

Brick cupped both sides of her face, capturing her attention again. "I don't expect anything from you, Blossom, okay? And I'm not going to because whatever happens between us, I want you to be one hundred percent comfortable with. Until you are, I'm not going to want anything."

"Are you sure?" She whispered, blinking back the water in her eyes.

Perhaps Blossom did have enough tears left to cry from the softness Brick was providing her. From the overwhelming emotion of love she felt for him.

Brick nodded without any hesitations, "How you feel is my main priority."

A smile slowly spread across her lips as she leaned her whole body back down to give him a gentle kiss. She felt the panic inside of her disappear, leaving her to feel homely in Brick's arms again.

She wrapped her own arms around his shoulders once more. When she pulled away, Blossom decided to rest the right side of her head on his bare chest. Her ear attentively listened to the thumping of his heartbeat. His abnormal body temperature warmed every inch of her skin pressed up against him. One of his hands was lightly rubbing it's fingertips into circles on the skin of her upper back.

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. The effortless enjoyment of the other's company fulfilling them. Blossom even felt serene enough that her eyes were beginning to grow heavy. Her mind calmed by the slow rise and fall of Brick's chest. She was minutes away from falling into a slumber when Brick's deep voice woke her out of it.

"Do you want to talk about today?"

Blossom exhaled hot air, her mind racking around the question. "I'm not ready to talk about my mom…"

"We don't have to talk about her."

There was a certain degree of mutual understanding in his tone. She did not want to divulge into the matters concerning her mom; he did not want to talk about Mojo much. It was easy for them to come to a boundary without much discussion about it.

She closed her eyes as she allowed her feelings from the day to flow out of her.

"Buttercup, Bubbles, and Boomer have all come to the agreement of not wanting to deal with Him anymore. They want to enjoy the time they have left instead of…" Blossom swallowed harshly as various images of Him's violent actions flashed through her mind. "And… I think they may have a point. Maybe it is time to give up…"

"You're not one to give up."

"I know... Trust me, I know..." Blossom murmured. "I just..." She opened her eyes, finding her gaze to be on the amber lighting of the lamp diagonal from her. "Buttercup said something that really got me thinking. She said we should simply enjoy the time we have left before the worst happens and―and I'm wondering if I should do the same. If I should stop myself before I become miserable and obsessive about stopping Him... Before I ended up like Professor Utonium..."

Brick did not say anything in reply. Instead, his lips puffed out in thought. A "mmh" was caught in his throat.

"It would be so nice to forget about all of this for a little. To not live in fear anymore..." Blossom glided her thumb against the skin in the hollow of Brick's neck. "We could leave together, you know? Run off and explore the Western seaboard before it all becomes nothing―Or we could backpack through Europe..." A longing full sigh escaped her lips as Blossom imagined the many possibilities in which were not completely out of touch if she _really_ thought about it. They could leave right this instant and be enjoying the little amount of time they had left together. "I would happily take the opportunity to travel with you until our world ends..."

"As tempting as that may sound... I don't think that's what you truly want," Brick commented respectfully. "You wouldn't be able to turn your back on Townsville and everyone in it so easily like that."

Blossom thought she would disagree with him. She felt her conscience make up a rebuttal to his words but her heart spoke up for her instead.

"No… it's not. Not when I feel responsible for what happened to Brat… Not when I've seen what will happen if we don't even intervene with Him," Blossom whispered hollowly. Her momentarily escape to a fantasy in her head crashed and burned abruptly, leaving her unable to breath in anything but the smoke and flames of the wreckage. Her heart was in her throat as she spoke quietly to Brick, "But what is there for us to do? We've been stuck in this warped sense of damnation for the hundred and seventeenth time. And it feels as if we're no step closer than the previous chances before us."

"I don't know if that's true. When I was working with Him, we both found the original group of five of you were processing everything at a much more accelerated rate than before. From what Him had let me remember, there has never been any big tidal waves to Him's plans until late October. But in this timeline, you figured out I was the pyro within the first five days. You went back to the lake way sooner than you normally would have. Then I told you all about what was really going on at the first month mark. If that is any indicator, it seems to me that we," He tapped his finger against the side of her head lightly. " _You_ have the answers, Blossom. Somewhere in your mind, it's there. We just haven't pinpointed out what they are yet."

"I can't have the answers," she muttered. Blossom sat up again. Her hands laying flatly against Brick's chest as she did her best to meet his eyes. "Not when I led us to the Halloween attack. Not when my decisions led to Brat's death…"

"You weren't the sole cause of her death," Brick spoke somberly. His hands cupped each side of her hips.

"But I saw it in my visions and I never did anything about it," she confessed in a hush breath.

"Then you're just as guilty as I am for not stopping Ace."

"Brick, that's—"

" _Different_? Not in my eyes," he remarked stubbornly. "And you know I'm not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for something that you had no control over in the end."

"Well it's not like I could have any control when I've been sidelined for anything we do. I'm so useless compared to everyone else."

"That's untrue. You've been our unofficial leader this whole time."

" _Right_. I'm the leader who played right into Him's non-existent hands…" Blossom shook her head in shame. "I don't know what I should think or feel anymore. It's as if I'm playing this gigantic game of chess with Him and every time I make a move, he's already calling checkmate."

Brick read her face. His mind in obvious deep thought but Blossom was not patient enough to wait for his reply.

"For the entirety of my life, I've had this firm, strong belief there is good in the world. No matter how dark things may get, there is always light at the end. And because of that, I've tried to embody the good I believe everyone is capable of. I could never turn my back on those who need me. But now…" A tight breath hitched up in her throat. "Perhaps I've been the problem here. My sense of duty to save the world I love has led us to make deathly mistakes. Ones we could have avoided if I didn't fight for them so much."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself," Brick said quietly.

"Am I though?" She muttered. Rose-colored eyes glassed over from the accumulation of the frustrations, mistrust, and fears she had towards herself. "Or am I too caught up in my own wants to realize how wrong I may be? Perhaps I've been the selfish one this whole time."

"You're the most selfless person I know, sweetheart."

"But what if I've been that way in order to stroke my ego? To make myself feel better for all the trouble I cause? Maybe I've been a fraud this entire time. What if, at the end, when it's all said and done, I've let my ego relish in the satisfaction of helping others because it makes me feel better?" She theorized. Her hands went to pull on the roots of her hair in which were a bit still moist from her shower.

Brick scoffed slightly at the thought. "If you have to hypothesize about it than be acutely aware of such things like that, then I pretty sure your mind is just being irrational."

"I don't know. Buttercup said—"

"Buttercup is willing to say anything to drive people away right now," Brick interjected firmly. His eyes kept a steady gaze on her. "She knows you very well. Therefore, she _also_ knows the exact things to say to get under your skin and keep you at a distance."

"But there has to be some truth to it or she wouldn't say it."

Brick inhaled and exhaled sharply through his nose. He let a minute pass as he studied her. Insecurities, fears, and all.

"You don't realize the impact you have, Blossom," he said after some time. His voice smooth and tender. "You made me believe in hope again after years of not thinking such a feeling existed anymore."

Blossom remained silent. Her mind growing choppy from the conflicting emotions within her.

"You take too much responsibility for anything wrong that happens to you or those around you. You pile and pile so much on those small shoulders of your's, but never once I have heard you complain about it. In fact, the only time you say anything negative, it's about yourself and how you weren't able to do much for yourself or someone else."

"You're not perfect, don't get me wrong," he continued. "But you never have tried to be such. Instead, you strive to be everything nice this world has to offer. And yeah, sure, you're going to take some missteps here and there. There are people who are going to challenge you. Yet, you always look for the best of any situation or person… And maybe I'm being biased here but I know I'm not the only one who feels such a way about you.

Brick reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. His eyes bright with adoration. They were the softest shade of red Blossom has ever seen before.

"So have this pity party you're having right now. Doubt yourself for a moment. But we both know this truly isn't you and you'll— _we'll_ bounce back from this. We will make sure Brat did not die in vain. We will stop Him. Even if it's just you and me. As long as you believe in yourself and want to continue fighting for the good in the world, then I'm going to be right there with you. I will stand by you, no matter what."

"...we can't do it alone, Brick. As much as I adore you for wanting to stand by my side, I'm not going to endanger you anymore," Blossom mumbled after ingesting his kind words. "I don't want to endanger anyone at all. Not when I've watched strangers and the ones I love die over and over again…"

She waited for Brick to response. For him to say something to comfort her and ease her mind as he had a knack for doing so. Yet, nothing came out.

His body had stiffened, actually. Those full lips of his, in which Blossom loved dearly, were left open a little as he stared blankly at her.

"...I've died, haven't I?"

His voice was raw and tired.

Blossom felt her stomach flop from the truth she has kept locked away from him for weeks.

"Brick, I—"

"Please just tell me, Blossom."

The redhead tilted her head to a degree, her eyes struggling to meet his. They were the most vacant shade of ruby.

She sucked in a deep breath before she exhaled the shaky answer. "Yes."

His eyes closed, his hands went to rub his face. The truth finding a home in his heavy chest.

"God, I… I'm so sorry you had to see that."

Blossom moved her hand, brushing away a few strands of wavy, scarlet hair from his face. He may not be able to see but her face conveyed a large amount of guilt she has carried for two months.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," she whispered remorsefully. "I thought I had enough time to protect you from what could repeat again." His hands withdrew from his face, his eyes becoming greeted by Blossom's. A tear had disobeyed her, making a free fall down her cheek and staining her skin. "I wanted to make sure you kept your hopes high enough to stay mentally present because I couldn't bare with losing you the minute after you had finally let me have you. It was selfish of me to do so and I'm _so_ incredibly sorry, Brick."

"Don't apologize," he said. His face pensive as he gently wiped away the leftover residue from her tear with his thumb. "The knowledge I was one of Him's casualties doesn't surprise me." He inhaled a sharp breath, "That fact I'm still alive in this timeline for as long as I have rejected Him is what seems to be more mind boggling for me."

Blossom's gaze fell. Her view was blurry and unfocused on the stitching of the chocolate quilt underneath them. Rose-colored eyes were glassy from the remembrance of Boomer's words.

"Boomer told me about what happened on Halloween," Blossom murmured.

She felt Brick's breath hitch. The heat of his skin grew even more, resulting in the skin of Blossom's thighs to feel as if they were becoming completely sunburned from being pressed against Brick's torso.

"...I was trying to save Brat…"

"Brick… We both know there's more to it."

He let out a sigh. It was an expulsion of the eternity of exhaustion he has carried throughout his life.

"Fine… I was more than willing to die that night. Even when you saved me from drowning, I felt _disappointed_. And I don't even understand why," he voiced with frustration. Blossom glanced up again, staring into his dull eyes. His gaze focused on the wood paneling of the roof, avoiding the compassionate stare Blossom held. "I should be okay now. I have a home. I been able to work my ass off for the last five years to keep Mojo's legacy alive but also to pay all of his medical bills and my own bills too. I have friends, I guess—or at least, people I care enough about to not want to see them hurt. I have a girlfriend who I'm crazy about. I do everything I can to keep me stable. I stay away from alcohol. I'm anal about cleaning because it at least keeps my mind clear for awhile and helps me with the compulsive thoughts I have. I make sure for doctors not to give me painkillers if I were to ever get injured. I take my antidepressants everyday... I _should_ be happy. I should want to live but…" He combed a hand through his hair, shaking his head slowly. " _I don't_. I've never have and I'm terrified that may never will."

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" Blossom asked softly.

"I used to go to therapy regularly back when Mojo was okay. That's how I got my medication," he revealed quietly. Blossom's mind flash-backed to the pill she watched him ingest in the morning. "After he… _you know_. I could only go once a month in order to keep the shop open seven days a week. Now with this Him crap, I haven't gone since August."

"But for awhile there, I didn't care about going back because I thought I was finally okay," Brick continued. His ruby-colored eyes found themselves back to Blossom's. A hand began to fiddle nervously with the ends of her long, orange hair. "After I stopped being Him's puppet and let you in, things seemed much easier. I had something to look forward to with studying for my GED and getting to see you everyday; but most importantly, I was slowly inching closer to becoming the man Mojo had always believed I could be. I was _finally_ able to catch my breath for once..."

"But then Halloween happened," Blossom finished vacantly.

"Yup," he answered with a hollowness to his deep voice. "And I was brought back to reality. To _my_ reality. I just… I don't get it. I don't know how people can live life. To get up each day with ease and be excited for what's to come. It," he shook his head in a small motion. "Has never made sense to me. Even with the _very_ _few_ things that have gone well in my life. I thought I was close to figuring it out when I met you but I couldn't let myself fall into that way of thinking…"

"I know I can't be the single source of your happiness," she said understandingly in a delicate voice. "It wouldn't be fair to me if I was. Your happiness is something you have to figure out for yourself."

"Exactly. But you have, however, made it easier for me to get through the days."

"Not now though."

Brick analyzed her for a steady moment before shaking his head once. "No. You still give me a break from how shitty I feel all the time... It's just with Mojo and now Brat, I've been contemplating if I'm even worthy to still be alive when compared to them. How everyone else's lives have been and are more important than mine ever will be. If it would be more beneficial if I swapped places with them than to be stuck living the life I have… It would be a lot easier for most if I was gone," he revealed somberly. Ruby-colored eyes had become fragile and glassy.

"Don't…" Blossom swallowed the hard lump in her throat. "Don't say that, Brick. If something happened to you… if you did something to yourself—"

"I wouldn't though," he interjected softly. "Yeah, the thoughts have come and gone but I've never considered them fully to take action. I don't think I have the strength to go through with it anyway. But I've come to realize I wouldn't stop someone from trying to kill me. I do know I'm not scared of dying. That night on Halloween, I was at peace for once. And that feeling… it hasn't left my system since."

"The want?"

"More of the understanding of what to expect," he corrected quietly. Brick's eyes grew bright with remorse a second after. His hands went to cup the sides of her head, weaving his fingers into her orange hair. "I'm sorry for all of this. I'm sure hearing your boyfriend—"

"No, you _will not_ apologize, Brick Jojo," Blossom said firmly. She exhaled a shaky breath, her tone becoming softer as she went on, "I wanted you to be open and tell me how you feel. Whether it be good or bad, I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Just as you would do the same for me, I'm going to be right by your side to support you through anything. This," she traced her fingertip over the left side of his chest, outlining an imaginary shape of a heart. "Doesn't change anything for me."

She watched as the corner of his mouth twitched upward for a moment.

"You're too good to me, you know that?"

"And you are to me."

Brick let a small, coy smile reflect off of his face. A slight silence faltered between them as he took a moment to himself. When he did speak again, his voice came off rough and uneasy; his words jammed pack with a mixture of emotions.

"If Him is defeated and we make it out of this alive, I'll make sure to get the help I need. I want to get better for myself but also for Mojo. Going back to therapy..." He trailed off. His Adam's apple bobbed harshly as he swallowed his words down before allowing them to come back up again. "Taking care of myself and to be happy... It would be what he would have wanted for me. And I just want to do what would have made him proud..."

Blossom ran her hand along the curve of his jaw. "I'm sure he was always proud of you, Brick."

"...I hope so," he murmured. A broken _yet_ hopeful smile took shape on his lips, letting her know he truly wanted to be optimistic for once on this particularly painful topic.

Blossom leaned forward, brushing her lips against his for a moment. The air of the room becoming light again as she felt Brick ease up.

He was completely transparent with her now. A first for him to do such a thing in his life, Blossom hypothesized; even with Mojo, he hid these parts of himself.

When she pulled away, Brick began to memorize her face. His thumb stroked against her right cheek.

"You're incredibly strong, you know that?"

Blossom sighed, letting her shoulders slump down in defeat. "I don't want to sound like a broken record, but lately I haven't been able to find that strength you're talking about," Blossom muttered.

"You will," he assured warmly. "And I'll be here to keep reminding you until you're able to see and believe it for yourself." Brick brought her head down gently, leaning his forehead against her's. "Once you stop and let yourself breath. Once you overcome this fear inside of you, I swear you will see how damn strong you truly are, sweetheart."

Blossom blinked at him. Her mind processing how he may be right. That she was letting herself unravel from all the pressure she was placing onto herself.

From the all trauma she experienced in one day.

It all led her back to the place she was in before having her conversation with Boomer after Halloween. A mental state she had agreed not to submit to.

Her need to move forward. To cope with Brat's death. It was all the way she mourned, Blossom realized. The day had thrown it off, making her question who she was. Her fears of becoming Professor Utonium had dug way deeper into her mind than she had originally acknowledged. It threw her back into a state of mind she had abandoned the second her life changed at the lake on August 22nd. Her newly salvaged self has not wondered about the past anymore but reverted back to lusting after an out of reach future.

That was her mistake. The one she has not corrected. She was moving in lightning speed without taking a second to stop and look around. Her want to be five steps ahead, led her to be seven steps behind.

Perhaps, Buttercup was right about one thing. Blossom needed to live in the present. There may be things in the past she wanted to relive or change. Things in the future she wanted or feared. But the present was the only time she was going to enjoy her life. The only time she could attain— ironically, even with her chronokinesis, it was.

She needed to savor the days she had but also use them to her benefit. There was so much she could do if she stopped trying to have the future figured out all of the time. If she _forgave_ herself for the past. Then she could contently live in the present as she should.

Then perhaps she could be ready for Him...

Blossom was going to allow herself to still be sad. To mourn Brat in her own way. To let her need to take responsible be a way to motivate herself. But she was not going to lose sight of herself. She was not going to let her friends do the same. Nor her boyfriend either.

The present was all she had left and Blossom was not going to let it go.

For instance, Blossom was currently in the arms of the man she felt incredibly strong feelings for…

"I'm in love with you," she confessed abruptly in a quick breath. Her mouth moving faster than her mind.

She jerked her head back to stare at him, wide-eyed and surprised by her own boldness. Her five words hung in the air awkwardly. The skin from her neck up was burning from the sudden wave of bashfulness that hit her.

All of the sudden, she became more conscious to her clothing again. To how reveal she felt it may be. How she may have been giving off the wrong message by laying and sitting on top of him for this long. For how she picked the absolute worst time to say such a thing to him.

Her thoughts were surely irrational from her anxious demeanor taking over but Blossom could not fight them off at the moment as she waited for Brick's response.

Brick sat quietly. His eyes seemed to blink in a quicker pace than normal.

A moment passed. And then another. And another… Until he finally spoke up in an uneasy tone.

"Oh…" He cleared his throat nervously. "I, uh…" Brick inhaled a breath through his nose, exhaling the hot air out of his mouth. His shoulders were tense, perching up into his neck. "I… I've never said _that_ word to anyone before…"

Blossom opened her mouth to ask what he meant but it soon came to her.

 _Love_...

He has never uttered the word to another. Even to Mojo. Her rose-colored eyes read him with mild shock before she swallowed the surprised nature down. Her expression becoming neutral.

"I don't want you to feel forced to say it back," Blossom said quickly in a soft nature. "I just... I needed to get it off my chest. I think after tonight, I simply wanted you to know that you're capable of being loved and deserve to be too." Her hand went to cup his left cheek. Her thumb stroked gently at the corner of his mouth. "But perhaps, I don't think I could have kept it in me anymore on how much I adore you. _You are my present, Brick Jojo_. And whatever life throws at me, I firmly believe you are one of the best things to happen to mine."

"I could say the same for me," he said steadily after a moment, despite the noticeable discomfort in which still lingered on in him a little. "I never thought one of my customers would become so important to me."

Blossom chuckled at his comment before she unintentionally let out a yawn. Her expulsion of air was contagious as Brick soon followed her action. Blossom took the initiative to untangle herself from him, peeling her thighs off of his torso. The redhead quietly made the move to tuck herself under the chocolate quilt on his bed. Her thin frame then curled up next to him as she laid down on her side.

"You know... If Him has been manipulating us this whole time, then there's a strong chance I came back to Townsville because of Him."

Brick frowned for a moment from the mention of Him, "That could be."

"Well then―What I'm trying to say here, is―If Him didn't exist, maybe there's a chance we would have never met," Blossom explained. "Or do you think we would have ended up together regardless?"

"I like to believe we would have," Brick answered easily without much thought. "Not to be a fucking sap, but I like to believe we would find each other regardless of any landscape we were to live in. Don't you?"

Blossom nodded, a warm smile spreading across her lips. "Yeah. I do, actually."

"Then I guess we're stuck with each other," he said quietly as he shifted onto his side to face her. Brick angled his head to leave just an inch of space between them.

"Oh, you're definitely stuck with me," Blossom chuckled lightly against his lips

She leaned forward, going in for a long, lingering kiss. It felt as if they had kissed for the first time again. Her chest fluttered from the plethora of fuzzy feelings she felt. Emotions she wished could never be lost or forgotten ever again...

When they reluctantly parted, Blossom stroked her thumb against the length of his chin as she was taking in the moment where she may have fallen even deeper in love with Brick than ever before. As she grew satisfied with the mental picture she encapsulated in her mind, Brick silently got up to turn off the lamp on his dresser, allowing a calming darkness to swallow up the room. She turned onto the her opposite side of her body, feeling the mattress sink downward when Brick's weight pressed down on it again. His arm snaked itself around her waist afterward. His warm presence pressured up against her back; his body went uncovered by the quilt due to the uncomfortable increase of heat it would bring him in slumber.

Blossom rested her eyes, savoring the last few conscious moments of the night before they both dozed off.

"Thank you... For everything tonight," she whispered hesitantly. "I came here more scared than I realized but you helped me regain control before I lost myself. So thank you, Brick."

"Anytime, sweetheart," he said gently. The breath of his words hit the back of her neck, sending goosebumps down her spine. "And you know… you can stay here for whatever amount of time you need…"

Blossom peeked through her eyes at him despite him being behind her and the room being pitch-black. "Are you sure?"

He squeezed her waist once, "Yeah. As long as you stay away from the oven, I think you would make a pretty decent roommate."

" _It was one time_ , Brick," she huffed out dramatically as he chuckled behind her.

"And I will _never_ let you forget about it."

His amusement was soon replaced by a light snore in a span of minutes. The sound helped guide Blossom into her own sleep. For once since the original night at the lake, Blossom felt safe enough to fall asleep. She was at ease enough to welcome her dreams without any fears.

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time..._

"Bubs, please…"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Bubbles repeated again. Her emotions were kept at bay to balance out the hysteria between her and Blossom.

Blossom wiped her eyes. Her mind trying to find a way to convince her.

The others… They did not see it.

They did not see the windows of time surrounding them. The portals to the past were only able to be seen by her, thanks to her chronokinesis.

There was the scene of her running to her exam; the day she made the mistake of running into Henry.

Her mom and her opening her college acceptance letter.

Moments of her and her friends in the back booth of Otto's, not showing a care in the world other than enjoying a good milkshake and fries.

The moment she walked into Brick's mechanic shop and met him for the first time.

Even the scene from moments ago containing one of her worst nightmares. Brick dying...

They were all replays of her life continuing on loop, waiting for her to access them. The problem was, she was unable to focus.

Her thoughts were on Brick. The way his body was tossed to the side as if he was garbage. The gaping hole in his lower abdomen, similar to the one she repeatedly envisioned herself receiving by a mysterious red monster with claws.

He did it to protect her. She should have known by his behavior. How erratic he was behaving the night before. The tone he used when telling her to _never_ go back to the lake. The desperate nature he was in, in which led him to finally kiss her for the first time.

Last night, Blossom went to sleep thinking she would be starting the New Year with someone certainly special in her heart. This night, before the clock struck midnight, she had to mourn the lost of him and the idea of a future they could have had together.

Furthermore, she had to accept the lost in the belief of a future. It was clear they were doomed the longer they stayed on the path they were on. Ever since the night at the lake, they been dodging the wrath of some unknown source. With Brick gone, Blossom was sure they would soon follow quickly.

She had to fix it. She could fix it if only she could tap into those damn time portals and start over again.

Blossom could save Brick. Her friends. The people of Townsville. The United States. The world.

Herself…

She needed to tap into her emotions more. Seeing Brick's body triggered the portals to open up in plain view for her. For her to break through the thin fabric of the space-time continuum.

If she obtained a boost of adrenaline from the strong emotions of pain to spike her abilities, then maybe, _just maybe_ , she could stop Brick from dying.

She could stop the chances of any of them dying.

Blossom needed to create a reaction out of Bubbles. One she could not control.

"Your dad..." Blossom trailed off quietly.

If she finished her sentence, she would commit an act that was extremely out of character for her. Bubbles'—and anyone's well being—was a top priority for her. However, the decision to reveal such information could be the determining factor of her saving the world from it's impending destruction or not.

Bubbles' peace of mind at the moment was a sacrifice Blossom was willing to make. It was a decision made out of a desperate mind clinging onto the notion she was the only one capable of fixing the world.

It was the last amount of hope she had left.

"He… He is going to leave your mom for mine," Blossom confessed in a breath.

The redhead watched as Bubbles' light blue eyes glazed over. It was like watching a lake freeze over in the matter of seconds.

Her lip began to tremor as she shivered from the deepest frigid temperature from within her.

"He–He–He what?" She stuttered. Her lips were becoming the same hue of her eyes.

Bubbles lacked control over her powers. More importantly, her emotions. It was one of the reasons why Blossom begged her for harm instead of Boomer or Buttercup.

The other reason... It was a hypothetical but Blossom was sure it would work out. That other notion was simply a sense of insurance in case she was not able to fix things completely.

The ice inside Bubbles was taking over any sense of warmth that remained in her. The palms of her hands were crackling subtlety. Sprouts of ice were covering her hands, all the way up to her elbows.

"Bubs, don't—"

"He's going to do it," Blossom nodded aggressively, interrupting Boomer's warning to the blonde.

A thin layer of ice began to spread under their feet. Blossom had to release her hold on Bubbles' shoulders in order to hug herself for warmth. Their breaths were condensing into what should be a dry heat.

"But if you _stab_ me, there's a chance we could change it. I could fix this. We can get another chance, Bubs. I swear—"

It all happened in the blink of an eye. The creation of the icicle. The excruciating pain Blossom felt in her stomach. Her _Happy New Year_ headband falling and bouncing onto the ground until settling a few feet away from her. Herself following suit by falling back into the beach. Her head finding comfort in the hard pillow of the pebbles of the beach.

She felt a rush of her senses. The throbbing pain of her piercing stab wound coursed throughout. A scream of agony escaped from her lips and into the moonlight.

More time windows popped up around her. The moments played out in a rapid pace. As if they were being fast-forwarded and reversed over and over again.

She had enough unstable energy to reach one. Her emotions were manic enough to make them tangible.

And then suddenly, she felt a numbness.

Her eyes settled onto the silver lighting of the moon. On the simple beauty of the celestial body.

The high of adrenaline was burning out. The rush she felt was depleting with each second.

Flashes of memories played over in her mind. The portals of time seemed to close as the life fled from her soul.

Blossom kept her focus on one of the windows. A scene of her watching a sunset on the beach reflected from the portal. She had to reach it before it shut. She had to be able to fix this.

The darkness was succumbing her. There was no way to save her.

None except for the single time window she had managed to escape to...

* * *

 _November 10th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Blossom snapped her eyes open. Her lower abdomen ached from the phantom pain she felt.

Bubbles stabbed her because Blossom _wanted_ it?

The time portal of her at the beach meant…

Blossom stirred slowly, gently lifting up Brick's arm from her waist and placing it back down on the bed. Her eyes gave him a once over. An uncontrollable small smile tugged at her lips from the sight of his peaceful state. She then quietly exited the bedroom, shutting the door behind her and entering his living room.

Her eyes went to the clock on the stove, reading it was five in the morning. She had gotten about six hours of sleep. An hour more than she regularly got since Him became a constant in her dreams.

Blossom went to turn on a lamp by the couch. Her eyes blinked to adjust to the sudden bright light in the room. She moved to the kitchen, searching for a notepad and pen in his drawers. She needed to make sense of what she saw.

Of _everything_ she has seen from the past.

Once she located a notepad and pen, she took a seat on his couch. Her legs crossed as she began jotting down the web of timelines in her head. More importantly, the real meanings behind them.

With a mind clear of any fears, Blossom was able to think rational. From it, she started her notes with the beginning. The scenes she traveled back in time to witness.

 _1917_ gave her the true start. How Him came to be in her dimension and why he has remained. Furthermore, the importance the secret bunker under the lake actually was when considering how easily the blurring of time may be underneath the room; all thanks to the meteor containing unknown supernatural abilities crashing into the center of the lake.

 _1937_ and _1977_ were connected in a way. The thirties showed Blossom the path she would have to take in order to get to the entrance of the bunker. Then the seventies were an extension of the map she needed.

Separately, _1937_ also gave her the theory of how complicated romantic relations were a common form of Him's probable manipulation. This stems from her knowledge of four out of the six eras seemed to have some type of a love triangle influencing part of the conflict of those affected. While _1977_ let her know more of the town's cover up to the incidents at the lake and how it was incredibly possible Him was manipulating more than a select group of individuals. It could be the whole town...

 _1957_ was a warning. A view into what Him wanted for her and her friends. The act of turning against each other and flinging out vicious attacks to harm one another. It was a much simpler way of reaching chaos than for Him to get his hands dirty with death.

 _1997_ …

Blossom was not sure what was the singular importance of the time era. To show her the connection between them and their parents? Him's possible manipulation over their entire lives? Or perhaps it goes back to Professor Utonium's journal entry. The blame he placed on Sedusa and himself. The want and need for forgiveness…

He was talking about Mojo, Blossom realized. If he had listened to Mojo, if he did not spend so much time talking to Sedusa, then they would have never become victims to Him's terror...

The power of forgiveness had to be an advantage against Him. The problem was, Blossom was not sure what were the true needs involving her and her friends that needed to be forgiven. She had some ideas but Blossom could not make assumptions towards what others needed anymore.

Then there was her time period. The vision in which was cut off until her dream.

The redhead avoided writing anything down from the vision she saw for the moment. Her mind was still trying to wrap around the conclusion she may have settled onto.

As Blossom re-read the notes she had scribbled down on the notepad, she could see how each of the five time periods represented what they had to do. With a new blank page, she began to take notes of certain scenes in which did not make sense to her until now.

She began with comparing certain timelines in which did not same connected until now.

For instances, Brute and Berserk's visions were congruent to each other as they foreshadowed Brat's death. A warning Blossom regrettably should have prepared for more than anything.

Yet, any preparation she may have engaged in could have been a wasted effort. Boomer's words of Brat's death possibly being inevitable echoed through her mind. She shook her head at the thought, still not comfortable with accepting it despite her better judgement acknowledging it was a strong theory.

There was another aspect Blossom failed to realize from those visions until now. Perhaps her visions were not a sign of caution after all.

Maybe they were a hint into what she needed from each person. The action of Brat's death could lead to Brute and Berserk becoming what Him desired but it also brought out other behaviors.

Brute's constant attacking of Berserk in the wake of Brat's death, could be seen as a raise in conflict to add to Him's much needed chaos. However, it also led to Brute finally gaining enough confidence to express her true feelings. The green-eyed girl has been known to keep her troubles a secret to remain neutral but a true act of wrath had brought out the courage in her.

Berserk, one of the most aloof individuals Blossom knew, came undone in an instant from Brat's passing. Her shift in spirit could make her easier to manipulate but Blossom felt it was something more.

 _Butch_.

Berserk leaning onto Butch during her mourning brought them closer. More so, Berserk acknowledged the unconditional love between them. The walls she had let crumble down for him to see despite her insecurities.

Butch helped Berserk become more open to becoming soft. For her to openly care about someone more than she cared about herself.

Berserk has already sacrificed her friendship with Brute to protect the green-eyed girl. She was close to risking her own life in order to save Brat;s. Blossom could only imagine the lengths Berserk was willing to commit for Butch.

That must be how Him kept her hooked. He could threaten Butch as leverage to make her cooperate to whatever Him may want. Berserk has shown her second thoughts to Blossom once before, and it has become clear the reason she has stayed with Him was to keep the ones Berserk cared for the most unharmed for as long as she could.

Blossom flipped to the next page as her handwriting filled another paper of notes.

Robin's vision was connected to the one she had originally believed was Butch's vision. Blossom had mistakenly saw the scene of Butch and Berserk as a warning to their impending romance. She should have realized, as her and Brick are, Berserk and Butch may be a given to almost each timeline. Or perhaps, the re-introduction to each other from the first timeline and so on, made it impossible for them to ignore the long buried away feelings they had for each other. Them, as a couple, was a gradual process over the course of a hundred and seventeen timelines, resulting in it to become practically impossible for them not to reunite now.

Therefore, that vision was not for her to stop them from being together or give her insight into their relationship. No. It was to show her the inside of the bunker. For her to know the true center of the lake.

Robin's vision added to it by showing Blossom how she has traveled to the bunker once before. The problem was, then, the redhead had no clue what she had to do there.

Not to mention, there was a sneaking suspicion Robin may had done something to sabotage her or at least had the intent to ruin her relationship with Brick but Blossom was not focused on that at the moment…

Bubbles' vision showed the aftermath of what Blossom had seen today of her own flashback to the past.

It seemed to be clear to her that those interconnected scenes were from the first timeline they ever lived. The _Happy New Year_ headband she had wore gave it away when considering they have been repeating time from August 22nd until the eve of the New Year.

Then that brought her to the truth she could not have expected. The insight into those time portals she was desperate to reach…

It explained why she felt a calling to come back to Townsville.

She had reversed time back to such a long period of time, starting over again on Fort Lauderdale Beach. The reasoning of Townsville needing her was true. It was because, in the redacted memories Blossom had, she kept a hold of the true sense of duty she originally had when begging Bubbles to stab her.

Which if she had started the first time loop on New Year's, that meant it was not Him who was rebooting each timeline. It was not Him would drawn her back to Townsville each and every time...

 _It was her_.

That was the reason why Him always appeared to have an edge over them. Her mind thought of how weird it was the mysterious shadows on Halloween did not want to harm her; instead, they kept her far away from the others while Ace's deathly gas grew.

Him was protecting her that night, Blossom suddenly coming to the shocking notion. Him did not want the new timelines as much as Blossom thought she did not.

It was her dying...

She was what triggered a reboot each and every time.

As she came to this realization, it was as if she unlocked a secret door. Flashes of previous timelines looped over. A kaleidoscope of blood red and dull pink eyes burned through her mind.

Each a scene of some type of sacrificial, self-inflicted injury. Each were a result from a emotional depleting action from before—Brick, Buttercup, Boomer, Bubbles... There was no life spared in Him's past efforts. Each happening somewhere other than the lake. Each an act of desperate courage to reach a fleeing solution to the past. Each leading her back to a place she visited...

To her in Fort Lauderdale. Orlando. South Carolina. New York. Cape Cod... With each reboot, Blossom went back further in time trying to warn herself to come back to Townsville. Fort Lauderdale Beach was where all the emotions and nagging voices met, pushing her to finally make the decision to come back as she has done for the past a hundred and sixteen times.

She was the problem...

She swiftly came to the revelation of the second reason why she choose Bubbles to wound her. It was the merging of time and ice. The literal interpretation of _freezing time._ This explained the scarce amount of timelines that did not involve her dying. In those, the timeline simply restarted after midnight came on New Year's. Which meant, time has been frozen on these particular months between late August and December because of her original intent of manipulating Bubbles.

It was why the lake never changed anymore. Why their destruction on Halloween simply vanished. Time had stood still at the lake, trapped forever to remain pristine in image.

And she knew this the first time. The thought of having insurance... She wanted to freeze time in order to have enough time to figure things out until they stopped Him completely. The problem was, her past self did not account for the wiping away of her and the others' memories whenever she reversed time. Her past self's desperate nature to fix, had failed to realize she was losing sight of reality...

In fact, all of her past selves had become depended on the escape strategies of dying and replaying again or waiting it out for the reboot. Which meant, the more she put herself in an active position of stopping Him, the more she endangers herself and the others of another new timeline. However, if she sits around and does nothing, the timeline would begin again no matter what.

It was all her fault. The more she pushes, the more everything falls apart. The more she pulls away, the more she loses sight of herself.

She needed something to change but Blossom was not the change.

Blossom was beginning to realize more and more on how she needed to let go of control.

She could not be the one in charge anymore. The longer she was, the more things could get out of hand. Each new timeline has had the same three factors: her and Brick, the chance of a reboot, and her taking the lead.

If she has been the one in charge of making all the plans for every timeline and Him has kept his memories intact for each time, then it explained why he was always one step ahead. She has made the same mistakes over and over again without learning from the past. There was nothing new for Him to witness.

As long as Blossom was in charge and put herself in harm's way, there was no end to the them being Him's play toys.

To the torture Blossom has extended for a hundred and sixteen more times...

There needed to be a change. More important, she had to take a page from the past and—

"You're up?"

Blossom glanced over her shoulder, finding Brick standing by his bedroom door. His hand rubbed at his eye, reminding her of a toddler awakening from a nap.

"Yeah. I had a vision and needed to write somethings done," she explained in a quiet tone. "But I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be lucky enough to get anymore sleep though."

A single nod was made in her direction as he left the door to the bedroom open and went to the kitchen. He pulled out a frying pan, clinking the metal surface against the other pots and pans.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you breakfast," Brick responded nonchalantly. His refrigerator door opening and closing as he took out a carton of eggs.

"You don't have to do that."

"But I want to," he stated stubbornly before shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, I'm up now. So I might as well make myself some too before I get ready for work in a couple of hours."

"Fine," Blossom settled.

A grateful smile laced her lips as she watched him crack a pair of eggs against the frying pan. The contents of the shelled object splashed into the pan, sizzling loudly from the contact made with the heat of the stove top. He moved along, placing slices of white bread into a toaster.

"So what happened?" Brick said. He tossed a look over to her quickly before focusing back on the eggs he was cooking. "In your vision."

"Not much," she answered tightly. Her chest was heavy from keeping the full truth away from him. But with what she knew, it was best if she did not divulge to him about what was _really_ happening. Not when Blossom was still trying to make sense of her options. "It gave me insight about myself and how I'm not right to lead anymore."

Brick snorted. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"I've been the one making all the decisions since the original timeline. Him is able to predict our moves because he knows exactly how I think. Therefore, if I continue to be the one in charge, we're never going to beat Him."

"Then what option do we have?" Brick questioned skeptically. He reached for a plate, sliding a pair of sunny-side up eggs onto the orange-colored surface. He then repeated the same process of cracking two eggs again. "There's no one else willing to lead us."

"I know," Blossom sighed. She ran a hand through her hair. "In a perfect world, we would be able to find someone who is capable of taking account to each and every angle. A team player who is also a total wildcard for Him. Someone who isn't impulsive and doesn't think they have all the answers right away…"

Brick slid the other two eggs onto a different plate. The sound of the toasted slices of bread popping out of the toaster was the only sound made as his ruby-colored eyes met her's. Both silently coming to conclusion of how they both thought of the same person instantly from her words.

"I think we already have the perfect candidate, sweetheart…"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Well, this is certainly the most I have ever wrote for anything in my entire life. The length, however, did make me nervous because I did not want to overwhelm anyone. Especially since a lot is discovered in this chapter. So thank you for taking the time to fully read this!**

 **I'm sure this chapter either made things much more clearer or probably turned everything you thought you knew, upside down. Lots of twists and turns in this chapter, which is why I could not find myself able to stop writing at some points. There's a chance I may have made somethings seem more confusing now but whatever may seem odd has (hopefully) already been planned to be addressed in later chapters.**

 **As for what was said between the girls and Butch... Well, that will have to wait for awhile too. All will be revealed soon enough but for now, their conversation is left to your assumption.**

 **I'm also excited to say that the next chapter will finally shed some light and much needed love on Boomer!**

 **Lastly, I would like to give a special shout out to Aitchhdee for keeping me motivated throughout this whole, entire chapter. You're the best!**

 **Until next time, thank you for reading and please review!**


	13. The Rebirth

_February 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Four years ago..._

If one were to glance around the cafeteria of North Townsville High, they would have swore it was still Valentine's Day. Pink and red hearts were taped to the walls and doors; in addition to being strung across the ceiling of the large space. Glitter of the same two hues could be found on the ground and stuck to the soles of one's shoe.

It was hard to escape the lasting effects of the holiday based around love.

Which made it not so easy for Boomer to forget the missed opportunity of the day.

He could have told her. He could have let a certain blonde friend how he truly felt about her.

Instead, he spent the entire day second guessing and doubting himself. The very thought of the conversation left him in a whirlpool of emotions; tossing and spinning him around into a wave of nerves and a wicked stomach ache for the first three class periods he attended. A foghorn in his mind, one in which has not sounded so loudly since his youth, kept blaring along with his thoughts. An alert on how the pressure he was placing onto himself was getting to be too much. Somewhere in between his first class and lunch, Boomer convinced himself he could not tell Bubbles how he felt with an upset stomach. He was not going to risk the chance of throwing up on her mid-sentence. Nope. Not a chance he was going to do such a thing. Therefore, he had to bury down his crush for Bubbles once again and continue to let his lungs burn from not getting it off of his chest.

Even if it was his decision to avoid the conversation Bubbles had no knowledge of, Boomer could not stop fueling himself on regrets and thoughts of how he should have just said something. The sudden mentions of how he should not have taken the easier way out. The idea of how there could be a chance for him and Bubbles if he would try harder. His mind was torturing him, leaving him to become more upset with himself the longer he thought about it.

 _He was pathetic_ , Boomer could not stop telling himself since the early morning of the current day.

To add more to the repercussions of his avoidance of feelings, Boomer was left hanging on to a box of chocolates he was planning on giving to Bubbles. They were some fancy but highly priced chocolate truffle brand from Switzerland Butch had recommended—when it came to sweets, Boomer trusted Butch's opinion blindly. He supposed they were nice—if he actually enjoyed eating chocolate.

So here he was, forcing himself to eat an entire box of chocolates—which surely was not going to fix the stomach ache he has been having since the day before by any chance—he did not even like in the middle of his school's cafeteria. Unable to get actual food since he spent most of his allowance on the expensive truffles he was consuming. The shiny red, heart-shaped box of the finely decorated chocolates mocked him as he continued on.

He cringed a little as he took a bite into one with a raspberry jam filling. It was certainly not a pleasant texture on his tongue.

"Hey, Boom."

Boomer glanced up from the taunting chocolate box, finding Blossom taking a seat across from him. A tray containing mushy, crinkle-cut fries and mini corn dogs matched with a carton of strawberry milk laid in front of her on the table.

Their school had opted with the idea to have two separate lunches for the student body instead of having all them eating at the same time for forty minutes. Two different, twenty minute lunches were what Boomer and his friends were used to by now. This year, Boomer shared his lunch period with Blossom and Buttercup, while Butch and Bubbles would eat together in the following lunch section after them.

He roughly swallowed down the nasty bite of the raspberry filling in a dark chocolate truffle in his hand before saying, "Oh hey, Bloss."

Rose-colored eyes went to the chocolate box excitedly. A fry she was holding was pointed in his direction, flopping downward from the sogginess it held. "You got a secret admirer?"

"Yeah," he chuckled wryly. "Myself."

"Well, self love is important," she said with a smile, popping the fry in her mouth afterward. Her eyebrows furrowed as a thought came to her, "But you don't like chocolate?"

"Well, the truth is," he huffed out in a shaky breath. His eyes were cast down to the annoyingly red box of chocolates. Could he _be_ any more pathetic? "These weren't for me. They were for—"

"Bubbles," Blossom finished softly. Rose-colored eyes expressed their sympathy for him instantly.

Boomer glanced at her, nodding slowly. He felt silly for even thinking of the idea in the first place. "Yeah…" he rolled his eyes at himself. "But I ended up chickening out like always…"

"Hey. Telling someone how you feel can be incredibly scary," Blossom reassured kindly. "Don't get down on yourself for not telling her."

 _Not the best piece of advice, Bloss_ , Boomer could not stop himself from remarking bitterly in his mind.

"It's kind of hard not to," he mumbled.

Boomer wanted to explain the noise in his head to her. How he mounded so much pressure onto himself that it became much easier for him to back away from what he felt instead of confrontation it.

But he did not want to waste Blossom's time. Why would she care about how pathetic he was? He was sure the redhead would not want to spend her lunch period listening to him go on about his troubles—Boomer was sure no one truly did. So it was best for him to keep it in and not trouble others with his worries and doubts.

Besides, he would look crazy trying to explain how he heard a foghorn every time he was troubled with a major decision.

Therefore, Boomer went with one of his already prepared responses instead. "Why would Bubbles even like me?"

"Because you're the sweetest boy to have ever exist," Blossom responded quickly. "And I'm not going to tolerate you trying to knock yourself down, Boom. So you didn't tell her." The redhead shrugged her shoulder, displaying it was not much of a big deal. "There will be plenty of other times for you to."

 _Will there be though?_

Boomer sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat. There was no point in continuing. The more he divulged into his self-loathing, the more Blossom had to say that, unintentionally, made him feel more doltish than he already did.

In reality, he should not even be upset. He should be grateful. Grateful to have a friend like Blossom who cared enough, for the moment, to listen to him.

Grateful he has not turned her off from all of the self-doubt he could express. Which meant, Boomer had to pump the brakes, readjust and make sure everything seemed fine because they had to be fine. Everyone else was fine, _so he had to be fine_.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward for a moment in appreciation before evolving into a forced, wide smile. "Thanks, Blossom. I needed that…"

"Anytime," she grinned.

Boomer gave her a single nod.

 _Everything is fine_ , he told himself. _You are fine_ …

In order to get himself to function properly, Boomer's eyes fell to the box of chocolates in front of him. "Hey, do you want some?" He pointed to the box. "You know I'm not going to eat them all—or at least, I'm not going to enjoy eating them."

Blossom let out a chuckle. "Yeah, sure. I'll have some."

She reached over, grabbing a dark chocolate truffle topped with a pink-colored white chocolate drizzle. Her front teeth sunk into the piece of chocolate happily.

Blossom went to eat a few more, taste testing the different flavors while carrying on a conversation with Boomer as they waited for Buttercup to join them for lunch.

All seemed fine. _Finally_.

As Boomer spotted Buttercup making her way to their table from across the cafeteria, Blossom furrowed her eyebrows aggressively. Her hand went to her stomach as she hunched her body in pain. Sweat began to break out across her forehead.

"Bloss, are you okay?"

"I, um—" Her hand went to her mouth as she involuntarily gagged. Boomer swore her complexion was paler than it normally was.

"Okay, I was literally going to murder Princess in Geometry today—" Buttercup began as she approached the table but the second her light green eyes landed on Blossom, she dumped her tray full of food onto the table. She squatted down, looking at Blossom in the eyes. Her hands planted onto the redhead's shoulders. "Blossom, did you—"

"I don't—" She started again before forcibly swallowing the incoming vomit down her throat.

Buttercup stood back up, hurriedly grabbing a nearby garbage can and placing it right by Blossom. The redhead lurched forward, purging out what she tried to keep at bay inside of her. The sound of her puking greatly, brought Boomer back to the moment.

The minute he saw Blossom's physical state take a turn, Boomer felt himself check out. Unsure on what to do, the panic within him had froze his mind. He was a deer in headlights, watching and listening to Buttercup handle the situation perfectly.

With one hand gathering up Blossom's head full of orange hair to prevent it from getting ruined, Buttercup glanced up at Boomer and then to the table. Her eyes narrowed at a half eaten piece of chocolate.

"Boomer. What type of filling was in those chocolates?" She questioned. Her voice on edge from the answer she anticipated. Light green eyes were seething at him.

It took Boomer a few moments to connect Buttercup's question to physically answering her. His mind wondered why she cared to know such a thing.

"Oh, um-" He jumped slightly in his seat, nervously grabbing the box of chocolates and reading the list of different fillings of the truffles in a shaky voice. "There's raspberry, espresso, passion fruit, cherry, pista—"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Boomer?" Buttercup exasperated.

And that was when Boomer understood her question.

Blossom was severely allergic to cherries. Raw, juices, baked into anything, jams, candies, etc. Whatever contained cherries, it was an allergic reaction in waiting for the redhead if eaten.

Everyone in Townsville practically knew because Ms. Bellum got them banned from being used in anything at Otto's and at any of the schools Blossom has attended. With the power she held over the town, it was not that hard of a movement to dispose of the fruit from most's diets in Townsville.

Because of this, everyone knew to never give Blossom anything with cherries. To always check to make sure it was not in their food when offering her anything.

Everyone but Boomer has done so.

He was the reason she was having an allergic reaction in the middle of their school's cafeteria. Boomer then remembered his classmates were also in the room with them. Their eyes probed their table as whispers and comments were made in their direction.

Boomer wanted to hide under the table to avoid all of their stares. He felt his cheeks flare up from embarrassment. His breathing was starting to shallow.

 _Breathe in. Breathe out…_

He could not let himself divulge into a panic attack right now. This was not about him. He could not let this whole scene become about him.

Not when Blossom was the main concern. Not when he should be fine and normal and trying to be there for his friend.

Not when he was responsible for all of this.

"I'm—I'm sorry–" Boomer stuttered as he scratched at the back of his neck. His hands needed to do something— _anything_ —in order to prevent them from noticeably shaking. "I didn't know–"

"I'm taking Blossom to the nurse's office," Buttercup declared, sitting the redheaded girl up and lacing her arm over her shoulder. Her light green eyes hardened more as she spoke to him. Boomer felt smaller than he already did under her stare. It was easily read how inferior she felt he was. "Why don't you make yourself useful and call Ms. Bellum to let her know what happened."

Boomer opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. Not even when Buttercup left with an incredibly pale and weak Blossom for the nurse's office. Not when his classmates flocked over to his table to ask what happened. Not when others were commenting on the smell of the trash can Blossom vomited in or made immature remarks about how it made her less attractive.

He was frozen again. Unsure on what to do and what was even his purpose.

Getting Blossom to have a severe allergic reaction seemed to be his only purpose in all of this.

He was the person who poisoned one of his best friends.

His mind was too full of thoughts that they were starting to merge and become one big blob. He did not want to confront the issue of how reckless he was. On he should have known better. Everything was a blur for him. He never took in the fact he pulled out his phone or how he called for Ms. Bellum—a contact he was given by the elder redhead for only emergencies.

It was not until the line stopped ringing and he heard Ms. Bellum's agitated tone, did he briefly snapped out of his dazed state.

"Hey Ms. Bellum…" He choked out. His finger went to pull on the collar of his shirt as his head to his toes felt inflamed from shame and embarrassment. "Um, I, um, made a mistake and, um, Blossom got, um, sick…"

* * *

 _November 13th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"You want me to do what?" Boomer stressed. His hand gripped on his thin blond hair. Ocean blue eyes stared wildly at the redhead across from him.

Her mouth was moving but Boomer's thoughts blocked him from listening. The last thing he expected from her when she called him to talk at Brick's house was to be discussing _this_.

She wanted him to be the leader? To come up with the plan to defeat Him?

How could she come up with such an idea? Out of all of them, he was the worst option for them. He should be the very last one to be considered for such a role.

"I know you wanted out," Blossom said in a mild nature, catching Boomer's attention again. She shifted uncomfortably in the cushion of Brick's couch. Her head sinking into the back of the chair, laying into a fuzzy, cream-colored throw—in which, Boomer did not remember the blanket ever being there before this meeting. "But I was hoping there was the slightest chance I could sway you into changing your mind."

"I… I…" he fumbled out, struggling to find a way to string together anything that would be remotely coherent.

"Boom, you're the only—"

"Me? _Why_?" he crooked out. He had to stand up. To pace around Brick's living room in order to calm his nerves. "Why… why not Brick? Or, um, Buttercup? Bubbles—she should be considered before me," Boomer spilled out. His hands weaving through his long blond hair repeatedly.

"Buttercup is too brash and impulsive. Bubbles, for a lack of better words, too withdrawn at the moment to cope with the duties of being a leader. And Brick…" Blossom paused for a moment, looking away from Boomer's, now, hyper-focused stare on her. She cleared her throat slightly, appearing uncomfortable with answering why Brick could not be the leader as oppose to the seeming confident reasoning she had for Buttercup and Bubbles. "He would throw himself into fix everything by himself and would probably get himself killed," she said quietly. Boomer caught her voice beginning to hitch up from, what he assumed, was the agony of the thoughts she had about the topic.

Boomer nodded his head understandingly, noting to himself to not bring up the subject again. "What about Brute and Princess?"

Blossom met his eyes again, "While I may like them, Brute and Princess are still too new for me to trust them with such a big task."

Blossom stood up from the couch, meeting Boomer halfway. Her hand went to his shoulder. A supportive and hopeful smile expressed across her lips.

"Boomer, if I didn't believe you had the capability to be the one who can figured out how to take Him down, I would have never asked you."

It was hard for Boomer to look into her eyes because for a moment, he could believe her.

That he was strong enough.

He could be smart enough.

Secure enough to take on the torch being passed on to him.

But his doubts flooded his system, washing away the unusual feeling of self-confidence within him.

This was not his destiny. He was not anything special. There was no chance he was meant to be the one to stop Him. Nope.

He could not be the one.

"But… but what about you?" He whispered. "Why have you changed your mind?"

Blossom immediately removed her hand from his shoulder. Her hands went to hug herself. Rose-colored eyes turned away, staring at the fireplace in the room as if it was the most interesting thing ever. There were three picture frames on the mantle now. One contained a photo of Blossom and Brick at the Grand Canyon. Another was of Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup at Otto's. The last one was of him, Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup, and Butch at the lake. It was from Butch and his' graduation party.

Looking at the picture made Boomer long for times like then. When they were all together and his biggest worry was about working full time at White Kitty's.

His mind wondered why Brick had these pictures but also of what Blossom thought when she looked at them? Did she feel the same sting of nostalgia like him? Or was it a painful reminder of how messed up everything has gotten? How unattainable happier times seemed to be.

"I, um… I couldn't take it anymore," she murmured. Boomer watched as she squeezed her arms more. The blond could tell she was avoiding something. Her behavior was, well, similar to how Boomer usually was when contemplating a heavy decision. "I keep making the same mistakes, and maybe… Maybe it's time for some change." She regained enough courage to meet his eyes again but only briefly. "And I think you're the right candidate we need to change the tide."

"Bloss—"

"You were right," she interrupted gently. "You were right about everything we've been doing. We should have been more cautious. We should have never gone to the lake on Labor Day or Halloween. I should have told all of you about Brick being the pyro much sooner than advising us to get mixed up in the Gangreen Gang drama we got into. And I know you never were explicit about it, but you had your suspicions about Butch and Berserk."

"I," Blossom took a deep breath before continuing. Her body seemed to be hollow out, making her appearance smaller and smaller as the conversation continued. It was hard for Boomer to not notice how the weight she gained since coming back to Townsville, was no longer there. "I overlooked all of those things because I wasn't being rational with any of my decisions. I've been letting my own personal feelings misguide me. The same ones that I always–"

Blossom widened her eyes for a brief second, shutting her mouth and clearing her throat quickly afterward. Boomer arched an eyebrow. His mouth moved to question what was wrong but she beat him to it.

"You've got the most rationally sounded mind between all of us. You think everything through and most importantly, you're compassionate. You're everything we need in a leader."

Boomer felt the weight of a _Mack Truck_ pressing into his chest. There was no way of changing Blossom's mind. She truly was set on him and him only.

Him, Boomer Hardly, who constantly had a stomach ache and avoided confrontation the best he could. The person who felt he was the one holding everyone back and not worthy of his friends' greatness. The same one who heard a foghorn in his mind when the pressure got too much for him.

How could she see something in him when Boomer felt there was nothing to see except weakness?

"Boom, I can believe in you all I want," Blossom continued. This time not cowering away from the depths of Boomer's ocean blue eyes. "But none of it will matter if you don't believe in yourself." The corner of her mouth tugged upward. A sign of the broken hope that has been keeping her together for the past few weeks. "Could you at least think about it?"

 _Just say no. Just say no. Say no already!_

But how could he say no when Blossom said he was the only one who can lead them?

The pressure she placed on to him was pushing his buttons but Boomer could not figure out which ones to follow. He was not satisfied with rejecting her. Not when he felt he was disappointing her. Not when Blossom has always been there for him when he needed her.

Now was his time to lend a hand out to the water trying to drown her. The question was, if she was going to pull herself out of the sea with his aid or was she going to drag him down with her; _and vice versa_.

Boomer was not sure and he was not going to be until he did what Blossom said he did best: think every option and idea through before making a decision.

"Okay."

* * *

"Didn't you tell her about our pact?" Boomer questioned.

After his meeting with Blossom, he found himself drawn to Otto's. The second his eyes caught sight of Bubbles' blonde curls, he knew exactly why he was drawn to the diner—and luckily for him, she was just going on break when he arrived.

Simply being around Bubbles somehow made him feel at ease for the moment. Which brought him to discuss the redhead with Bubbles. Boomer made the effort to avoid telling Bubbles about Blossom's want for him as a leader in case a certain inter-dimensional demon was watching them. Instead, he questioned to Bubbles on why Blossom has not given up already?

Boomer waited for a reply from Bubbles but instead found her completely zoned out. Her eyes seemed to be frozen over with disinterest until she became aware of him staring at her. She blinked once or twice before stuttering a little.

"I, um… Yeah, I told her," she answered in a short manner. Bubbles then shrugged her shoulder once. "But it's Blossom. She doesn't give up easily."

Boomer nodded, lowering his gaze to the paper placemat on the table. He remembered the times him and the others would spend their Friday nights at Otto's. Butch and Buttercup would challenge each other to see who could eat the most cheese fries. Blossom would referee in case of poor sportsmanship by one of the dark-haired individuals. Bubbles' infectious giggling would dance around the air whenever she stopped singing along to the show tunes playing on the jukebox. And Boomer would try to soak in the entire moment. He would use the back of his placemat and some crayons meant for kids to sketch out his friends. Each week he would create a new memento of much simpler times, keeping them in one of his sketchbooks at home for sentimental reasons.

The questions he thought of at Brick's cabin over the picture frames on the mantle raced through his mind again. Was he making himself feel worse by thinking about when he was able to enjoy himself?

As he lingered his stare on the placemat, his stomach churned greatly from his unwillingness to discover the answer.

"Did she attempt to persuade you to try again?"

Ocean blues eyes glanced back up at Bubbles. He shook his head once hesitantly to indicate no before sighing, "I mean, she did try a little but Blossom wasn't being pushy about it. She just…" Boomer trailed off, remembering Blossom's grave expression from earlier in the day.

How she stopped herself from revealing too much towards the end of their conversation. He knew she was hiding something. From him personally knowing what it exactly was like to avoid, it was painfully obvious. But Boomer could not accuse her of doing such at the moment. Not when he wanted to avoid pretty much everything happening to them too.

All he could do was wonder what it could be...

"She just…" Bubbles repeated to remind him of how he has not finished his sentence.

"I feel like she's not telling me everything. She was hesitating a lot and, um, then her body language… She just wasn't acting like herself. She seemed…" _Like me_ , he wanted to say. "She seemed scared, Bubs," Boomer concluded in a quiet tone as if it was a terrible secret they must keep between only them. They both leaned back into the vinyl covering of the backs of their respective booth.

Boomer found his eyes looking out of the window next to him. His line of sight aligning with the burnt ruins of the factory across the street. It was an eyesore and a reminder of when everything began.

 _It all started with Brick…_

The blond narrowed his eyes for a moment. His mind replayed Blossom's words. When it came to why Buttercup and Bubbles could not be a leader, she knew exactly what to say. It seemed way too perfect—as if it was rehearsed beforehand. With Brick, she was lost. At the moment, Boomer mistook it as her worrying too much about Brick's safety but what if it was not?

What if her newly founded want to be relieved from her unofficial leadership position was because of Brick.

Maybe Boomer was getting too lost on this baseless tangent but in his gut, his aching gut, he felt he was onto something. Blossom felt guilty about something, he was slowly realizing, and that something involved Brick...

"Bubs, do you think-"

Before he could finish his thought, Bubbles' phone began to ring. She smiled brightly at the contact's name after she pulled out her phone from the pocket of her apron—it was one of the first genuine smiles Boomer has seen from her in awhile—and kept up the same expression for much of the phone conversation. Boomer sat uncomfortably, looking anywhere but her as he waited while she spoke to whoever it was on the phone.

He tried not to listen to her conversation because he felt it was rude if he did, but his ears caught onto her tone beginning to falter. His eyes snapped back to her, finding her smile had disappeared.

"I work doubles until Friday. Can you wait to talk then?" She asked quietly. The other person must have picked up on her change of tone as she began to explain herself. "It's nothing, I promise. It's just… People don't normally say 'We need to talk' without it meaning—Are you sure?" The corner of her mouth turned upward from whatever they said. Her blonde curls bounced along as she nodded her head with a new smile taking shape on her lips. "Okay. See you then… I love you too."

 _I love you too._

Boomer felt his entire body freeze up. There was no way she was talking to one of her parents since she saw them everyday at home. And she was briefly saddened by the idea of "We need to talk", which meant…

"So, um… Who-" Boomer cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. His stomach felt as if it was being twisted into the most complicated knot, nauseating him instantly. "Who was that? If-If I, um, may ask?"

Bubbles blinked at him, sliding her phone back into her apron pocket, "Oh." Her light blue eyes glanced out of the window for a moment as she answered him. "It was my boyfriend," she revealed, meeting his eyes again.

" _Boyfriend_?" Boomer choked out subtly. His eyebrow was cocked as he felt his heart drop to his knotted up stomach. He wanted to vomit so badly. "I, um, didn't know you-you," his voice began to crack as he continued. "Have a boyfriend…"

"Yeah, he lives in Citiesville."

"Well, um…"

The foghorn in his head was playing on repeat, making it hard for Boomer to focus on his thoughts.

The blond was not even sure what he wanted to say.

He could ask her questions about her boyfriend. Be a good friend and act interested in his friend's significant other. He would do the same when Butch wanted to talk about Buttercup back in high school. He could do the same now.

But as he moved to open his mouth, Boomer found he could not push himself to fake such intrigue.

Instead, he wanted to scream. Yell at the top of his lungs on how he was such an idiot for not saying anything to her before she got a boyfriend. To shamefully recall all of the times he chickened out due to avoiding the topic and his feelings all together. It was his fault he could never tell her.

 _God, he really was such a loser_.

Lastly, he wanted to tell her. Boomer wanted stop shying away from his emotions and to look her in the eyes, take her hands into his' and calmly say, _I'm in love with you, Bubbles_.

But Boomer knew he would not act upon any of those options because none of this was about him. Nor was he even sure if he could actually go through with it anyways. As much as Boomer wished he had a say in this situation, he simply did not.

Bubbles had a boyfriend. End of story.

He tapped on the table five times with the ends of his nails before finally setting on a string of words.

"I'm," _in love with you_ , "... happy for you, Bubs," he said truthfully. It may not be him but all Boomer could want, was for Bubbles to be happy. And because of that, he had to ignore the obnoxious thoughts and sounds in his head.

Bubbles took in a deep inhale and exhaled a few seconds later, throwing out a thank you along with the breath.

The blond glanced over at a clock hung on the wall near them. He knocked both his fists subtly against the table, making brief eye contact with her.

"Your break is almost over and I don't want to keep you, so I should go."

He got up without waiting for her reply.

"Are you sure—"

From the corner of his eye as he walked away from their booth, he saw Bubbles stand up. Boomer did not turn around. Only until he was at the door, with the chime above head ringing, did he look back at her, doing another thing he did best: _avoiding_. He forced a smile, waving a little in her direction.

"I'll see you around, Bubs."

* * *

 _November 14th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Why he was here, Boomer had no clue.

He has not been back since before Halloween. The day before his best friend betrayed him.

Butch's turn to the other side has not been an easy pill for him to swallow.

This was the guy who Boomer spent the last thirteen years or so of his life beside. His first friend. The person he trusted the most in the world. Without Butch, Boomer would have never met Buttercup, Blossom, or Bubbles. Brick too.

The same person who played with him every afternoon for a year when his biological dad left and Boomer needed to take his mind off of it.

Although they never spoke about it, Boomer knew Butch kept a binder full of drawings created by the blond in one of his desk drawers. A gesture in which validated Boomer to know his friend genuinely liked and cared about his passion.

Losing Butch was not something he could just move pass. Even if Boomer felt as if he already lost Butch once.

It was after graduating high school, did Boomer notice a shift in their friendship. Butch was more withdrawn and it only became more apparent as the months went along. Then there was Halloween at Princess'.

The one night in which Butch wanted to make up for lost time. A night the green-eyed male knew Boomer needed him as the large crowd on the holiday has always sent his anxiety into overdrive. Instead of being there for him like Butch promised, he was nowhere to be found.

It was on that night two years ago in which Boomer realized he could not count on Butch anymore. Boomer had to accept that his best friend was not who he used to be.

And so he did.

Boomer adjusted. He forced himself not to text Butch on a regular basis. Went to the movies alone since he lost his movie buddy. Avoided going to the bakery for as long as he could.

The blond did miss Butch. A part of him wished the green-eyed male would have taken notice to the distance between them, but he never did. Perhaps that was why Boomer did not try communicating his hurt feelings. It was all a test to see if he truly mattered to Butch. And the results were quite clear.

Of course, the foghorn in his head was sounding off, guiding in the thoughts of how he was not a good enough friend for Butch or how he _must_ have done something wrong for Butch to be acting this way.

It was during this time, did Boomer discover the truth.

He was at the mall in Citiesville shopping for his dad's birthday present, and they were there. Butch and Berserk. He was carrying an arm full of various shopping bags in one hand. The other was entwined with Berserk's.

Boomer had to find the nearest place to sit down when he after witnessing the sight.

 _Butch and Berserk_?

The blond could not even remember a time Butch had spoken about her existence before then. It was always Buttercup for him. Just as Bubbles was the girl Boomer longed after since they were just some kids playing after school, Butch was tied together with Buttercup.

Hell, Boomer could not remember a time where he did not associate Butch without Buttercup or vice versa.

Once the initial shock had settled out of him, Boomer started to question plenty of things.

 _How? Why did he not know? What about Buttercup? Why Berserk? How did he have conversations with her? Was Butch happy_?

One thing Boomer knew, however, was that Berserk had become the wedge in Butch's life. He distanced himself from his old life for her. Boomer did not need to ask Butch or interact them together to know because it was obvious to him from Butch's recent behavior.

Was it intentional for him to cut everyone out? Boomer was not sure. Perhaps Butch was the type to wrap himself up into his relationships too much. The type who forgets about everyone else in their life but their significant other.

Or maybe Butch wanted to start over and Berserk was a part of that decision. New girl, new life, new friends…

It took Boomer a few months to readjust again. To stop himself from believing he may have influenced Butch's division in his life.

Those thoughts were not at the stand still he wanted but Boomer coped. There were moments where he caved in. Where he tried to reach out but only got a lackluster response—which did not help Boomer's mind from concluding that he may have been the problem. When the group was together, Boomer tried to bury down his hurt from surfacing. Princess' birthday was a tough occasion for him, especially when Butch repeated his disappearing act less than thirty minutes into the event. But Boomer had to portray as if everything was fine because no one else seemed to notice what he did.

He had to deal with the lost of his best friend for the betterment of a year.

And then, when Boomer was still making it on his own, Butch came back into his life. Butch never acknowledged what happened or apologized _or_ even said a word about Berserk and their relationship to him but Boomer made the mistake of letting it slide for the sake of having his best friend back. And it was not only him who was graced by Butch's reemergence, but Buttercup was affect too it seemed. The two were quickly discovered to be an item by him and Bubbles a few months later.

Things were how they used to be for once.

Yeah, they were missing a member of their group but they were mostly back together again. It was a whole year where nothing went wrong. Butch was his best friend again. Buttercup was happy. Bubbles and him were good friends without any weirdness surrounding them.

When Blossom came back, Boomer thought it was a chance for everything to go back to how it was. Like an old video game that had been abandoned for years, only to be completed after a long passage of time.

He had no clue how her arrival was the calm before the storm.

Now they were at the eye of the storm. The waiting period. The chance to catch their breaths before the thrashing and heaviness of the rain began to beat them merciless again.

And Boomer found himself looking for answers but not in the best of places.

His chat with Bubbles left him emotionally stunted. It was hard for him to process what it was exactly he felt or what he wanted.

Everything for him was surface level. His morning routine was all a rush and blur of familiar motions. The drive into town was non-coherent to him. Neither was his decision to park right in front of Batter Up.

He should leave.

Boomer had nothing to say to Butch. Or at least, he should not have anything to say to Butch.

The years of resentment and guilt for the disruption of their friendship was probing his mind. The more he thought about it, the more apparent it was for Boomer to realize could say something. That he, actually, had a lot to say.

 _But would he_?

Butch was his best friend but at the moment, Boomer _hated_ his guts. It took him a couple of weeks to come to this conclusion but Boomer could not deny the truth to the emotion.

However, he did not want to hate Butch.

Boomer, even after all the things Butch has done, has always simply wanted to have his friend back.

However, with Berserk and Him in the picture, Boomer doubted there would be any chances of such a thing to occur. Especially when they only have a limited time before Him's endgame was among them.

Which was why Boomer needed to leave. He reached for the gear shift of his car, but his hand kept still. His ocean blue eyes were quick to focus on the glass door of the bakery opening.

In his flour covered apron—a gift Bubbles had given him for his twenty-first birthday, a few mere days before Halloween—Butch stood by the door on the phone. He did not seem to notice Boomer's presences initially, until he shifted his body in the direction of the blond's car.

His mouth was slow to shut as Boomer and him locked eyes. There were many things Boomer could tell Butch wanted to elaborate on.

What he was thinking. Why he did what he did. The reasoning behind it all…

It was all noise. Loud static trying to be finely tuned into an articulate speech.

In all of it, there was only one thing it could be easily summed up to: _Butch was apologetic_.

If Butch had a reason to be sorry, then Boomer had a reason to forgive.

 _Forgiveness, though…_

Boomer was not in a stable enough state to sort out his level of forgiveness for Butch and his actions. Recent _and_ old. It was a territory he found himself leaving untouched due to the resolution he was most terrified of.

The true ending of their friendship.

Therefore, Boomer was not sure if could or should forgive Butch.

His hand moved, shifting his car's gear into reverse, leaving the spot he held and not choosing to dip into the still waters of his feelings towards Butch.

* * *

"And then I left."

"You didn't say anything?"

"Nope," Boomer answered pathetically. His eyes were pretending the wrench—he had no clue what type it was since tools were not his specialty—in his hand was more important than whatever he felt inside of him.

His emotionally stunted nature from the morning dove into deeper waters, sinking into the feelings of regret, confusion, and guilt.

He regretted not being open about his emotions with Bubbles and Butch.

Boomer was confused on how he should process both situations.

He felt guilty for simply being himself. For being a loser who cannot handle simple confrontation.

Brick sighed to himself, continuing to work on a engine of a two decades old _Chevy_ truck. His ruby-colored eyes were the epitome of what it meant to be focused.

"...Perhaps it's time you give it up," Brick said delicately.

He did not want to be dramatic but Boomer felt the life in him beginning to slowly drain out of him as he thought of the possibility. The blaring of the foghorn in his mind brought on a pounding headache. The tension within him hammered at his skull in a methodically rhythm.

"I don't know. I've—"

"Boom." Brick called out firmly, taking a moment to meet Boomer's eyes. "She has a boyfriend. It's over."

Boomer opened his mouth to respond, but instead choked on the breath. He began to cough to himself, feeling the heaviness of each cough burning his chest.

Once he regained his composure, the tension in Boomer's head had worsen.

Boomer slumped his shoulders to Brick's answer, "Yeah… Yeah… Anything I do, it will only make things worse, wouldn't it?"

He could tell Brick wanted to say no simply for Boomer's sake but the redhead had to be honest. "It will."

"Then, um," Boomer exhaled. A hand rubbed at his temple, "I guess it's a good thing we're all going to die soon."

"Bubbles really meant that much to you, Boom?" Brick questioned, not being able to hide the dislike he held towards the notion.

Boomer shook his head, "What? No!" He answered quickly, straining his voice while doing so. The rest of his words came out hoarse, "I don't want to die because she doesn't like me back, Brick."

"Well, I'm glad we have that cleared up."

The blond let out a humorless chuckle as he explained his comment, "It's just, what else do I have left?" His hand scratched at his scalp, ruffling his shoulder-length, golden strands. "I pretty much have no job, I don't know who my friends are anymore or who I can trust, the girl I love will always see me as her friend, and I'm… I'm just tired of feeling the way I do all the time," Boomer finished aggressively.

Brick read his face for a moment before taking the time to close the hood of the _Chevy_ he was working on. He reached for a nearby rag, wiping his hands clean as he leaned his back into the car, facing Boomer head on.

"What are you _really_ here for, Boomer?"

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows, confused by Brick's question. "I… I don't know." He glanced down at the cement flooring of the auto shop as he badgered on. "I, uh, just want someone to talk to you and, um, the three people I would usually talk to, I'm avoiding. And then between you and Buttercup, surprisingly you're way less scarier than her at the moment."

"She's not that scary."

"Um… yeah, she is," Boomer refuted, nodding his head. "Did you not see her trying to murder Butch on Halloween?"

Brick shrugged his shoulders, tossing his used rag onto the tool cart by him. "Butch had it coming."

Boomer blinked in response. "Umm… that was not the response I expected to hear. Why would—"

"Boomer. You're stalling."

Ocean blue eyes widened at Brick, frightened by being caught. The impending discussion between them was on the horizon and Boomer did not want to swim out to it.

Instead, he would have wanted to stay put on the shoreline as long as he could. Problem was, Brick has shoved him into the unknown body of water, making him choose on whether to sink or swim.

"Maybe I am," he stated quietly, avoiding Brick's gaze. "But can you blame me? With what is going on—What Blossom wants for me, it's too much pressure."

"Yeah, it is," Brick exhaled. "She— _We_ both know you're the one, Boomer. Your intellect is our secret weapon at this point—"

" _My intellect_?" Boomer interjected in disbelief. "I'm not the one who made it into MIT. Nor am I the one who practically aced their ACT and SAT," the blond referenced, presenting his hand in the direction of the redhead in front of him. "How am I more intellectually inclined here?"

Brick sighed, taking a moment to get his words together. He moved his shoulders along with his words, "So yeah, sure. Blossom went to MIT and I did well on some standardized tests but does that help us in this situation? Is Him forcing us to take the SAT? Or lecturing us about biomedical engineering? No—"

"Well obviously he's not—"

"You're the first one to think everything out. More so, you think outside of the box. Whatever Blossom can plan out, has been done before. _But you, Boom_? Your mind is full of untapped potential that we need," Brick concluded, speaking over the blond's consistent objections.

" _We_ … you mean you and Blossom," Boomer pointed out. "Because you and her are the only ones who want to stop Him now."

Brick nodded, looking out to the road that led to Jojo's auto repair. "We are."

"How?"

" _How_?" Brick repeated, arching an eyebrow and meeting Boomer's eyes. "How what?"

"How do you do it?" Boomer asked desperately. "How do you find the want to fix this? To want to live when everything is shit? How can you be so sure that stopping Him will making things better?"

"I'm not," Brick answered with ease. "How all of this is going to end, I have no clue whether we are really doing some good or not, but…" he paused, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly, "I've missed out on so much of my life waiting for it to just end. And I still struggle with that feeling but nothing will overpower me wanting Blossom to be able to live her life to it's fullest potential." Ruby-colored eyes fixated intensely on Boomer. "I want you to live your life too, Boom. I don't want you to be like me and let yourself be your biggest enemy." He rubbed the back of his neck, "I guess that's where I'm finding the strength and want to fix this."

"Well it's not worth it," Boomer mumbled. "I'm such a loser, Brick. There's nothing special about me. Not when I'm compared to you, Blossom, Buttercup, or Bubbles. What future do I have?" The blond asked dishearteningly. He gained no immediate response from Brick, allowing him to spiral into his rambling thoughts.

"There's nothing to see about me other than my weaknesses. There's no reason for you and Blossom to be hyping me up as if I'm this savior. But then I also don't want to let you down or anything. I feel," the blond subconsciously grasped at his neck. "I feel like I'm drowning, and Blossom and you are trying to throw me a life vest but I can't stop thinking about what it would be like to just…" Boomer let out a defeated sigh, sinking in on himself. "Drown."

"There would be no more noise in my head. No more feeling up and down about the littlest things. I wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. No more feeling crazy or never knowing the feeling of satisfaction. All I would ever be…" Boomer sucked in a tight breath. "Is a shell of myself."

A strong silence captivated the two as Boomer waited for a response from Brick. He tapped his foot anxiously, badgering to himself for being too weak and vulnerable in front of Brick.

The redhead narrowed his eyes, appearing to be actively trying to read the truth behind Boomer's words. "...Is that what you truly feel?"

Boomer opened his mouth, a bit of shock washing over him. He expected for Brick to deny his claims. To convince him that what he thought and felt were not true.

The blond glanced down at his lap, finding himself brimming in shame. "Most of the time, um, I do— _The loser part,_ that is. And with all that's going on, I've been thinking about death a lot more."

"I know the feeling," Brick confessed lowly without hesitating. His ruby-colored eyes became eclipsed with a darkness for a moment.

Ocean blue eyes peeked up, getting a quick look of a solemn Brick, feeling as if he was witnessing something he should not be.

"Halloween…"

"Yeah," the redhead exhaled, immediately picking up on what Boomer was referring to. " _Halloween_."

"Are, um... are you still thinking about it?"

Brick pursed his lips, taking a moment to pick his words more carefully. "It comes and goes. Blossom and I had a discussion about it and with everything in a lull, it has not been too bad for the past few days."

"That's—that's good," Boomer fumbled nervously as he fiddled with his fingers. "I'm glad you spoke to Blossom about it."

"I have to thank you for that," Brick acknowledged. The blond glanced up, meeting his eyes. "I'm pretty sure I would have never opened up to her like that if you didn't tell her what happened."

For a moment, Boomer trembled with fear since he carried the belief Brick was not going to be pleased with him for sharing sensitive information about the redhead to Blossom. In his heart, he felt it was the right thing to do but Boomer also felt like he betrayed Brick's trust and privacy.

"About that," Boomer said quickly. "I'm so sorry—"

"Why are you apologizing?" Brick arched his eyebrow. "You were looking out for Blossom—And me, in a way," he shrugged. "I cannot be anything but grateful for that."

"Oh," the blond breathed, releasing the tension and certain guilty feelings inside of him. "I'm glad then."

"Me too." Ruby-colored eyes watched Boomer in sincerity. "And Boom, if you truly don't want to be a part of this, then tell Blossom. She'll understand."

"I…"

The foghorn in his head was back. The loudness overpowered his ability to reach an answer. Boomer felt the constant back and forth of dodging a defiant response was driving him to the brink of insanity.

He hung his head, not wanting to be the focus of Brick's attention anymore. The blond wished he could fade into the background of the room. If trying to decode his wants and needs brought these feelings out of him, Boomer would never want to share his emotions with anyone again. The thought of avoiding interactions with anyone until his bitter end, did not sound so badly to him at the moment.

Out of the conflicting feelings within him, Boomer did have one stronger than the rest.

 _Guilt_.

"...I don't want to disappoint Blossom," he confessed quietly.

"Boom, it's okay," Brick said gently. It was probably the softest the redhead has ever spoken around him. "Blossom went into this decision knowing it would be hard for you. She knew there was two ways it could go. And if I'm going to be honest, I think she's already proud that you're even taking the time to consider it instead of outright rejecting her."

Boomer tilted his chin upward, his face conveying how unconvinced he was. "Um, I get that you're, like, dating her and all, but how can you be so sure she feels that way?"

The redhead scratched at the back of his head awkwardly, "So we're kind of living together at the moment and when we have dinner, she usually tells me things like what I just said."

Boomer's eyebrows shot up quickly. Well, that explained all the new details to Brick's home from the last time he visited. Those changes were Blossom's touch. An attempt to make Brick's home actually feel as if someone lived there. To bring in life to the space they now shared together.

" _Living together_?"

 _That was quick_ , he thought to himself but nonetheless, Boomer was pleased to hear such a thing. Brick has isolated himself for so long, it was nice to know he was letting someone in for once.

Brick took in a wavering breath, letting his lips turn into a crooked grin, "Yup. That's what we're doing currently."

The blond returned the grin on Brick's face, "That's so great. I'm happy for you, Brick."

"Thanks." Brick arched an eyebrow, "But do you believe me now?"

"I mean…" Boomer pursed his lips before letting out a sigh. He had an escape. He could reject the position presented to him. Yet… "I do." Ocean blue eyes flooded in intensity as they met Brick's. "I do. And knowing all of this, I should be hopping at the chance to call or talk to Blossom at the moment but I'm not? _Why I am not_?"

The redhead shrugged his shoulders, "I can't tell you that."

"Then do you know what I should do to figure it out?" Boomer asked helplessly.

Brick took a long moment to think over his question before giving the blond a piece of simple advice, "Stop trying to shy away from what you feel, I suppose."

* * *

 _November 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

After his visit at Brick's work, Boomer found himself driving aimlessly. He had went to Citiesville and walked around the mall but the thoughts of bumping into Bubbles' mysterious boyfriend terrorized his mind. He drove to the nearby _McDonald's_ and gorged out on _way_ too much chicken nuggets while listening _Coldplay_ on repeat—he did not even like _Coldplay_ —in the parking lot. Boomer then rode route ten westward for two hours, stopped for gas, and turned back around to Townsville.

In this wasted time, Boomer could not even tell what he could have saw or heard. His mind was gone for all he could know. He needed it though. A dip out of the reality of Townsville. To see how the rest of the world was moving along.

To move along with the world without thinking about Him or his powers or those in his life.

Time was passing by him and Boomer took it in with a warm embrace. He was able to escape for a period without having to think. It was the remedy he needed after his discussion with Brick.

Now it was a few minutes after midnight and Boomer drove himself to Ralph's with the single thought of how he wanted some ice cream. The last act of divulging+ to add to his perfect day of dodging the decision he needed to make.

The store was closed by now as was everything else in Townsville, but Boomer hoped Mitch was on the night shift. The brunet had a habit of letting Boomer—and Butch at the time—into the store after hours all throughout high school and even did it occasionally now passed graduation.

He approached the locked doors of the grocery store, using the special knock Mitch advised them to use. A few minutes passed by and there was no answer. Boomer attempted one more time, knocking against the glass a little louder.

A person approached the door but it was not Mitch.

Instead, Boomer was greeted by light green daggers.

The blond smiled innocently at Buttercup, lifting up his hand for a short wave. The dark-haired girl rolled her eyes as she unlocked the doors.

"What are you doing here?" She questioned irritably as the blond entered the grocery store. The bruising from Halloween was a lasting detail to her olive complexion—especially when she did not cover it up with makeup for the night. Her hands went to lock the doors again

"I wanted ice cream," he explained blankly, heading straight for the freezer section with Buttercup behind him. "Why are you here, though?" Ocean blue eyes tossed over to her as he stood before the frost cover doors containing gallons of ice cream. "I thought you don't do night shifts anymore."

Buttercup crossed her arms, grumbling to herself before answering him. "After I almost punched Berserk when on duty and yelled at a customer during it, my manager either only schedules me day shifts to solely clean the bathrooms or to work the graveyard shift."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrow in disbelief, "You almost punched Berserk?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. The obvious displeasure she held for the orange-haired girl was easily read from her face. "I know it's immature and all—"

"No," Boomer pitched in softly as he moved closer to the freezers. His eyes moved up and down, reading off the various flavors and brands in his head. "I think you should have punched her when you had the chance."

"You what?" Buttercup remarked in disbelief. Her dark eyebrows gathered together in confusion. "Since when are you an advocate for violence?"

The blond shrugged his shoulders, opening one of the freezers to examine a gallon of ice cream more closely. "She has not been exactly the kindest person to you, Buttercup. Besides, after the sucker punch she hit you with on Halloween, I think you're valid in getting at least one punch in on her."

Buttercup was silent for a moment, her hand lightly touching the spot where Berserk's knuckle made contact with her. She took in his words before bursting out into a laughter. It was the type of hysterical laughter to be concentrated in her belly, driving her to put her hands on her knees from laughing too hard.

"Oh fuck, what alternate universe have I landed in," she cried out through the laughter. It was obvious her mind could not wrap itself around the idea of Boomer approving of her punching Berserk.

Boomer placed the gallon of ice cream in his hands back on it's shelf, moving along to the next door. "It's, um, kind of been a long day for me," he explained. His ocean blue eyes becoming interested in a particular gallon of ice cream. "I might not be in the right state of mind at the moment, so, um, perhaps you should take what I say with a grain of salt."

His ears perked up at the sound of Buttercup's laughter ceasing as he opened a new door to the ice cream section of Ralph's. His hands wrapped around a black carton of the frozen dairy product. It was cherry-vanilla flavored.

"Long day?" Buttercup repeated, conveying the best amount of concern she could while also keeping him at arms length.

Boomer would have taken a moment to chuckle at her failed attempt of trying to close herself off at him but he found himself unable to do such a thing. His body moved like a mindless zombie as he closed the freezer with the ice cream in hand and went to find himself a utensil to use.

"It's not important," he exhaled out once he took notice of Buttercup following him.

 _Saying it was not important was exactly what Brick advised you not to do_ , Boomer told himself but lacked any sense to listen to it.

He led them to the aisle shelved with plastic utensils. His free hand went to a box of spoons, opening it up to pull out one for himself to use before closing the box and putting it back where it originally was. In any other occasion, Boomer would have never done such a thing but with the fried brain he had, the blond was not entirely focused on etiquette at the moment.

Buttercup did not object to his actions nor did she make any snide remarks. Instead, she went to the same box and took a spoon out for herself, repeating Boomer's behavior afterward. The blond got her message clearly, taking the initiative to squat down and taking a seat on the tiled floor of the aisle they stood in.

The dark-haired girl took the spot beside him, watching as he tore open the plastic wrap around the ice cream's lid and peeled open the lid to unveil the ripples of cherries and creamy vanilla ice cream.

The two began eating the gallon, staring at the rolls of paper towels and toilet paper rolls that occupied the shelves on the other side of the aisle.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about what's bothering you?"

Boomer took in a spoonful of ice cream, glancing at Buttercup from the corner of his eye. From how much she expressed about wanting to avoid closeness with him and the others, the blond was a bit taken back by her question. She was trying to be there for him and Boomer was not used to such a behavior from Buttercup—at least, towards him.

He swallowed, feeling the coolness of the ice cream hit the back of his throat. "I, um…"

The blond hesitated, catching himself from speaking about Blossom's proposition for him. Like when he spoke to Bubbles, Boomer knew there was a chance Him could be listening to their conversation. Even if he did not take on the position, Boomer wanted to keep Him unaware on Blossom's search for a new leader. It was the least Boomer could do for her at the moment.

So he chose to discuss the most normal occurrence to cause his rough behavior as he attempted to do with Brick. To have a standard conversation most individuals his age should be having instead of having to worry about a demon trying to end the world. That was what he wanted out of the time he was going to spend with Buttercup.

To continue the mental break he was taking since the previous afternoon.

"I found out Bubbles has a boyfriend," he said quietly.

It was a lot easier this time than when he spoke to Brick. The weight of the statement did not sit in his chest fully anymore; gradually lifting itself up as the seconds passed instead.

"Oh," she remarked. There was no hint of surprise in her tone at all.

Boomer arched an eyebrow, "You knew?"

Her shoulders slumped down as she leaned back into the boxes of plastic cutlery behind her. "Yeah, I did," Buttercup admitted apologetically. "Blossom and I didn't want to say anything because we felt it wasn't our place."

"It wasn't. I don't blame you guys."

"But it does still suck."

"Yeah," the blond nodded, digging his spoon into the ice cream. "It's definitely not in the top ten best feelings to have."

Buttercup chuckled at his comment. Her light green eyes watched him as he ate another spoonful of ice cream. They narrowed a little as she appeared to be in a heavy thought process.

"Why do you even like Bubbles?" She asked after a prolonged moment, catching Boomer off guard.

Definitely not a question he was expecting.

"I, um—"

"I didn't mean that in a bad way," Buttercup interjected, her eyes wide after repeating her words in her head. "I'm asking because there's a chance your feelings could be like Butch's. Where you've convinced yourself that you're in love with Bubs, but once you have her, you realize…"

Boomer waited for Buttercup to finish her sentence but she did not. Her hand was shoveling ice cream into her mouth instead to keep her from ending her words. The blond did not need her to finish anyways. He got what she was trying to say.

He also got why she chose to become mum so quickly.

Boomer cleared his throat to relieve the tension that was radiating from Buttercup's abrupt nature. "Her kindness. The way she loves first, no matter who or what someone has done. How she is the first to try to cheer any of us up when things are tough," Boomer explained with ease in his voice but he held each word heavily in his heart. "She's the sweetest person I know. And when my stomach doesn't feel as if it is being twisted up into millions of knots, I am happy when I'm around her."

Buttercup kept her spoon in her mouth. Light green eyes remained tight on him.

"Huh."

"What? Are those not good enough reasons for you?"

She removed the spoon from her lips. "No, they're good," she shrugged, moving and keeping her line of vision to the gallon of ice cream in between them. "Way better than the reasons why I think Butch liked me."

"And what would those be?" Boomer asked, despite knowing all of the reasons why the dark-haired male liked her. It was a topic they discussed way too many times over the years—especially in high school.

Buttercup shrugged her shoulders again, "We grew up together. I could easily be one of the guys. He did not seem crazy when he got competitive because I'm way worse. And there's a chance, since we were so close, he misinterpreted our level of intimacy and communication as romantic love."

"Mmmm," Boomer hummed, nodding along. "That's along some of his reasoning." The blond pointed the end of his spoon at her. "Except for the last part. Butch did truly love you and I would have called him out if he did such a thing."

"No, you wouldn't have," Buttercup chuckled nervously. She was trying not to get caught up in Boomer's admission of Butch's love being true.

Boomer let out a sheepish grin, "Yeah, you might be right there."

He took in the sight of her fiddling with her spoon. How she avoided his eyes since she brought up Butch. The discomfort she held was suffocating her.

"Not exactly great conversation material, I gather?" He inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"Just as pleasant as it is for you to talk about Bubbles."

"Then I'm glad we can meet eye to eye for once."

Buttercup let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "That _is_ a miracle, Boom." She glanced up at him, meeting his eyes.

For a moment, the blond could see a difference in her. There was no guard up. No wall for him to climb over. It was the closest he has ever felt with her.

And it all faded away in an instant once Buttercup must of caught onto what she was portraying. There could be no pushing everyone away if she did such a thing, Boomer concluded.

 _He should be doing the same._

A silence lapsed between them as they quietly ate the ice cream. Boomer fidgeted a little, preparing himself for Buttercup to go to the extreme in order to create a larger divide between. For her to cut him down by her sharp tongue and declaration of not needing anyone.

Yet, she did not. Instead, she closed the distance between them in order to begin a new conversation.

One in which she used a calm and neutral tone for.

"I forgot how much I liked cherries," she remarked after swallowing a scoop of ice cream.

"With Ms. Bellum's restrictions, I bet the rest of Townsville would agree with you."

"Blossom wouldn't."

Boomer blinked at her. His mind warped back to the moment in the cafeteria years ago. How sick Blossom became in the matter of minutes. How guilty and incapable he felt during the entire ordeal. The way Buttercup spoke to him and Ms. Bellum's reaction too.

The fog horn roared in his head as he could not move past what happened. The "what ifs" and "should haves" he conjured up years ago berated him all at once more. The wave of panic and terror washed over him as if he was back in the same moment again.

"You–you remember," he swallowed, stumbling over his words. "That day, um, after Valentine's Day?"

"What? The one where Blossom got sick?" She questioned nonchalantly. Boomer nodded slowly, wishing he could remember the day as lightly as she apparently did. "Yeah, I do. Not one of the best memories I have from high school—but then again, most of them were shitty to begin with."

Boomer closed his eyes. The replays of Blossom getting sick played vividly through his shut eyelids. The words, the whispers, the yelling and harsh comments; they all stuck with him. The strong ingest of fear was swift and furious, never really finding a way out of him, Boomer realized.

The fear has always been in him but that day intensified it. The fear of how he would never be good enough for anyone or anything he could do.

"I think about it often," he confessed. " _That day_. How I could not handle the pressure. All I wanted to do was hide. I didn't know what to do or how to help Blossom, but instead of thinking of exactly that, I wanted to hide. And… I'm so pathetic," Boomer choked out, burying his head in his hands.

"No, you're not," Buttercup waved off instantly.

Boomer snorted, wanting to roll his eyes. If anyone was to make him feel like a complete loser, it has been Buttercup. She has been the toughest towards him out of all their friends—prior to her break up with Butch, Boomer must add. The first to greet him with a complaint or comment she had towards his decisions or interests. He could distinctly remember Buttercup calling him a dork for the entirety of his eighth grade year because he ranted about comic books to her "too much".

At least the others nodded their heads and listened to him for a moment instead of writing him off.

Not to say he did not love Buttercup as much as he did for the others. It was just Boomer always knew their relationship was not equally balanced as he would have liked. Buttercup had her moments of kindness and, deep down, he knew it was her being defensive or simply being honest with him; but the blond did wish she was nicer to him for the sake of being nicer.

"What's that for?"

Boomer lifted his head from his hands, opening his eyes to find them staring at the gallon of ice cream. The frosty treat was beginning to melt. The vanilla cream was mixing with the ripples of cherries, blurring together into a pastel pink.

"You were pretty nasty to me that day," Boomer informed her quietly. "You looked at me as if I was the most worthless and inferior person to live and, and, I believed you. That's the worst part." The blond combed a shaky hand through his long locks. "I know you didn't mean to be malicious and what was important at the moment was Blossom but that feeling. The way you made me feel shitty, it has stuck with me since then."

Buttercup did not say anything for a good amount of time before sighing. Her body seemed to cave in on itself.

"I… I'm sorry, Boomer," she whispered. "I didn't… I…"

"It's fine," he pitched in, even though he knew it was not fine.

Buttercup shook her head, "No, no. I shouldn't have—I took it out on you. I was… I was absolutely terrified that day," she admitted. "Other than what's happening now and when my dad died, it was one of the few times I actually felt scared. I mean, it wasn't that bad looking back on it but in the moment, I thought I was going to lose one of my best friends and—"

Boomer reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. The action silenced her as their eyes connected. "I know exactly how you feel. My fears prevent me from behaving and acting the way I want. I feel like my life for the last few years have been a replay of that day. It was one incident that proved to me how easily I can become a shell of myself when things go awry. I always let the fear in but never let it out…"

He let his head slip from her shoulder, finding it paired with his other in his lap. Ocean blue eyes were focused on the callouses and grooves of his palm as Boomer wished he was not opening up like this. It was as if the floodgates of his repressed emotions were all spilling out and he had no clue what to make of anything.

Nor did he know if he truly wanted to.

"Well, I was scared on that day too but it was— _it was like a hiccup_ ," she verbalized after finding the right word. "Yeah, it's uncomfortable and frightening; but like having the hiccups, I have to let them come and go."

"Those feelings of fears, they just don't simply go away so easily. But I can't become immobilized when I'm needed. Life... Life is about making your way through the scary and uncomfortable feelings we have, not around them," she finished, nudging Boomer's shoulder.

Boomer nodded his head absentmindedly, taking a hand to run through his hair. Something about what she said, simply clicked for him. "Yeah…"

Buttercup arched an eyebrow, "Yeah what?"

The blond did not explain. The foghorn was louder than he has ever heard it before. But this time, instead of trying to avoid the noise, Boomer found himself drawn to it.

He stood, digging into his pocket for his wallet and handed her a ten dollar bill. "For the ice cream," he explained before making his way for the exit.

"Where are you going?" She shout out to him as he reached the end of the aisle.

"To figure out what I'm missing," he mumbled back as he unlocked the doors to the grocery store and left to embrace the darkness of the night.

* * *

 _November 15th_

 _Peoria, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

He drove. Like during the daylight, Boomer find himself traveling the interstate of Arizona. His mind was not cognitive on where he was going but he was sure of one thing as he went: to go north. There was a calling inside of him, seeking out a location in particular.

It was not until an hour or so into his drive, did Boomer realize where he was subconsciously driving to.

 _Lake Pleasant._

He has not been here since he was a kid. His dads used to take him on annual camping trips during his spring breaks. An occurrence that ended the very year his biological dad walked out on him and his other dad.

Boomer was slow to exit his car. A rip current of memories pulled him with vicious force. _Happy memories_ , he must say.

It was during his times at the lake, did Boomer feel free. He felt like he could be or doing anything. There was no fear holding him back. His childlike glee and wonder for the world was able to flutter with strength for one whole week.

And then his dad had to leave…

A frown struck upon his face. The fond flashes of his childhood quickly were shrouded with dark clouds.

 _Now they were melancholic memories_ , Boomer decided as he forced himself to exit his car.

There was no one near the lake's shoreline given it was nearly two in the morning. It was only him and the moon.

He approached the water, taking a moment to discard his sneakers. His toes wiggled around in the sand beneath him. The water avoided his hydrophobic skin, leaving his feet dry and unable to feel the crisp, coolest it held.

Boomer stared out around him. The night surrounding him in a tight hug, leaving him a bit breathless. He did not know what to do nor why he was here.

Was it to relive his childhood? To remember to be the adventurous kid he once was?

 _That seems a little too on the nose_ , he doubted.

Instead, he found himself drawn to the center of the lake. To the pool of dark blue liquid the night portrayed.

The noise in his head grew more as he hesitated, amplifying the desire within him.

He tossed his wallet and keys by his shoes. Still fully-dressed, he took steps into the water until it reached his waist. His upper body lowered as he pushed the heel of his feet against the ground, taking off to glide the surface. The drenched fabrics of his clothes wanted to cling to his body, but were repelled to be a few lengths away from touching his skin. Unlike the night on Halloween, Boomer did not mind a long swim.

In fact, there was a hum in his chest. The first slightest thump of enjoyment he has felt in awhile since the last time he swam in a lake.

When he made it to the center, Boomer took it all in. The campground in the distance. The pine trees swaying in a light breeze. The spill of glitter in the dark sky, glimmering under the moonlight.

 _It was such a beautiful world they lived in_ , he could not help thinking. Such a shame he did not take the time to appreciate it enough.

A slight movement of the water hit his chin gently, catching his attention. His eyes stared down at the unknown beneath him. Usually, this would have frightened him. The thought of not knowing what was under him, would have sent him into overdrive back to the shore.

 _But he felt it_.

He felt the hiccup Buttercup had described. The brush of fear sweeping into him, asking him to decide if he wanted to focus on why the negative emotion existed _or_ to figure out a way to deal with it.

It was then when Boomer realized why he traveled to such a location.

With a deep breath, the blond dove into the depths of the lake. He struggled to open his eyes in the water but Boomer forced himself to pry them open. The dark water swirled around him, daring him to turn back.

It was his decision now.

 _To sink or swim_.

As he grew closer to the bottom, the more the noise in his head grew silent. The less the fear in him spoke. He could do it.

He could overcome the unknown.

Boomer felt his chest begin to concave. The ache for oxygen was taking over his body. It was a war within him over his physical needs versus his mental ones.

In an arm's reach, he would meet the ground of the lake and then he would make a dashing swim up to the surface.

But his body betrayed him. His mouth opened, gasping for air in the wrong place. Water filled up his mouth and lungs, attempting to drown him.

And he did not try to fight it.

 _To sink or swim_ , Boomer told himself. His path was destined to sink, it appeared. So he let himself to.

The aching in his chest disappeared as he remained motionless in the depths of the lake. He waited for it.

For the darkness to take him. The large swoop in which transcended his soul into another plane of reality—at least, that was what he believed happened when one passed on.

Yet, it never came.

His chest moved up and down. His heart thumped normally in his chest. The water remained unchanged.

It took Boomer a good minute to understand what was happening.

He had another side effect. The blond could breath underwater.

 _This definitely would have been useful on Halloween_ , he remarked sarcastically at not making the discovery much more sooner.

To test out his ability, Boomer took in a deep breath of water. His lungs moved the same as if he was on the surface. The oxygen of the liquid flowed through his body as he exhaled out into the water. A line of tiny bubbles traveled up to the surface as he did this.

A small smile danced across his lips. The thought of how he was closer to being _Aquaman_ than he originally believed, excited him. Now if only he could speak telepathically to water-dwelling animals, then blond would be truly content with his abilities.

He wondered if there were any limitations to his side effect. His ocean blue eyes found a spot on the ground of the lake. Boomer decided to settle down, crossing his legs as he sat down. His mind counting the minutes that passed by while he stayed down.

From what he could remember of recently, Boomer has never felt so serene. Just the voice in him counting along, the dim moonlight gleaming through the surface, and the gentle movement of the water around him.

There was no loud noise in his head. The foghorn had been subdued the moment he dove into the water.

His spell of hiccups were gone. And he was left with himself.

 _Left with himself_ …

For the first time, Boomer did not feel… awful for being stuck with himself. No words or mentions of his self-deprecation affected him.

He did not want to focus on the negatives. The embarrassment and guilt on what he has missed out on. Or the anger and sorrow from not stepping up when needed.

Boomer wanted to be better.

He could be better.

But he needed to realize there was never anything wrong with him. All the setbacks and obstacles in his life, were apart of him. Instead of avoiding them or trying to erase them from the foundation of his being, Boomer needed to embrace them. Learn and grow with them.

Let the hiccups come and go because they were only temporary if he let them be.

It was why he should not shy away, like Brick advised him to do.

The noise, the overpowering current of emotions, and the uneasiness, could be bettered by him listening and understanding where they were coming from. By opening up and talking to his—incredible, amazing, and caring—friends instead of deflecting their concerns when he needed them.

His anxiety was his mental illness and he has let it live his life for him.

Boomer wanted to be better.

From that, Boomer had to learn how to live his life with his anxiety. Not without it. Not for it. But with it.

Anxiety was apart of him but Boomer would be damned to let it be the only thing to define him.

He needed to do what Blossom wished for him. Boomer had to believe in himself.

Blossom did. Brick did. It was time he did.

There were no more excuses. No shield for him to hide from what he wanted to avoid. While he had no interest in getting involved in war, war had interested in him and Boomer had to remember they were in a war between chaos and them.

 _Chaos and…_

Boomer gasped out to himself. In his "a-ha moment", the blond found an answer that had been there the entire time.

Him wanted chaos, which was generally optimize through destruction. The most destructive thing Boomer could think of was war.

War could be caused by many reasons. Death, greed, apathy, betrayal…

Him needed the keys of chaos, and Boomer was starting to believe he knew what those keys were.

They represented a trait of chaos and war. Brat had to be death. Ace could be greed. Boomer felt Berserk was the poster child of apathy. Butch was obviously betrayal. The others, they all were equivalent to a reason of why war was created. It was from their worst, Him could derive such traits from them.

But there was a way to oppose chaos.

 _Order_.

If they each were able to carry a key of chaos; then they also had to have a key of order, Boomer concluded. It was a vice and virtue type of situation.

Order was the way to beat Him. By bringing out the best in each of them, they could stop Him from entering their dimension.

Whatever may happen between now and New Year's Eve, it was up to them on whether they decide to bring out the worst or best in them.

 _To sink or swim_ , he remarked to himself with a smirk.

And while he was not sure how the others wanted to decide their fate, Boomer had a strong leaning for what he desired.

 _It was to swim_.

He rose to his feet, pushing off against the ground. His arms cut through the depths of the lake like a knife until he made it to the surface. Boomer took in the change of pace with pure oxygen filling his lungs as he swam back to the shore.

Boomer emerged from the water feeling anew. Reborn, even.

He was still himself. Flaws, struggles, worries, doubts and all. But he knew it was different. He was going to try to not let himself miss out on opportunities. The emotions and fears he was avoiding, Boomer did not want to hide from them anymore. Boomer wanted to be kinder to himself; to learn how to appreciate himself little by little. To embrace the hiccups of life.

He was still Boomer Hardly. And for once, the blond did not feel at a lost by that thought.

* * *

 _February 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Four years ago…_

"This is absolutely unacceptable, Brian."

"Sara, I know… Trust me, I know. But Boomer didn't mean—"

"Didn't mean to poison my daughter? Is that what you were going to say?"

"For heaven's sake, Sara—"

"Well, that's what happened. And I would like for you to notify Richard of the legal action I will be taking against his son."

"I am his father too."

"No, you're just the poor-sucker who got stuck taking care of that _loser_ of a child."

"Excuse me?"

"I did not miss speak, Brian. And I also would like to make it completely clear on how I do not want him anywhere near my daughter ever again."

"Hey Boom."

Boomer felt himself being drawn out of the daze he was under. His attention had been hyper-focused on the hushed conversation his dad and Ms. Bellum were having in the hallway outside of Blossom's hospital room. A conversation in which Ms. Bellum was vocalizing how Boomer exactly felt about himself.

Everything was fine with Blossom. The school nurse had given her an _EpiPen_ stored away in her office, per Ms. Bellum's request, and was taken to the hospital afterward to get checked out. Due to Ms. Bellum's wishes, Blossom was to stay the night to be observed by the doctors in case of any abnormalities from her allergic reaction.

Once school had led out, Butch had taken him, Bubbles, and Buttercup to visit their friend. A couple of "Get Well Soon" balloon floated by her bedside, thanks to Bubbles. Butch had Fuzzy drop off a plate of Blossom's favorite strawberry and white chocolate chip cookies. However, the redhead was not allowed to eat anything except for the jello provided to her by the nurse—again, it was under Ms. Bellum's wishes.

The other three had been informing Blossom about what she missed at school and what people were saying—Buttercup was close to getting in a fight with Princess and her friends for some distasteful comments they made towards the redhead. The television in the room played an old episode of _The Simpsons_ , providing background noise.

Blossom and Bubbles were sharing the hospital bed, while Butch and Buttercup sat in the respective chairs provided by the room. There was another one by Butch for Boomer, yet the blond had stood alone against the wall along the door. His mind to loud and heavy from the guilt he felt from being the reason Blossom was stuck in this room for the night. And then his ear caught onto the conversation between Ms. Bellum and his dad.

 _He was a loser_ …

"Boom?"

Boomer blinked, immersing himself back into the reality in front of him.

"Yeah?"

His eyes scanned each of their faces, gathering why they were calling out to him. They felt sympathy for him. Their conversation must have lulled without Boomer realizing, allowing them to hear the words being exchanged outside of the room.

"Don't listen to Ms. Bellum," Bubbles advised.

"Yeah, that lady is a wack-job anyways."

"Hey!"

"Blossom, don't even act like your mom is completely sane," Buttercup countered, arching an eyebrow at her redheaded friend.

Blossom hesitated for a minute, pursing her lips before deciding to not make an argument out of the comment. Instead, she focused her attention on Boomer.

"I'll talk to her, Boomer," Blossom said with a kind smile. "I'm not going to let her prevent me from seeing one of my best friends. Especially when it was my own fault for eating the chocolates without checking. So if she's going to try taking things out on you, I'll be the first to volunteer to be in path of her wrath."

 _It was my fault_ , Boomer wanted to say but he did not. The attention and concern should be on Blossom, not him. Taking blame would only bring him a bunch of nice and reassuring words he did not deserve nor wanted to hear.

"Yeah," Butch agreed, nodding in Boomer's direction. "If one of us is going to be taken down, we all are going down together because it's going to take a hell of a lot more than Ms. Bellum to break all of us up."

"Ugh," Buttercup groaned. "You're so goddamn cheesy."

"We're a family, Buttercup. Just accept it," Bubbles continued with a grin, grabbing a hold of Blossom's hands.

"As long as we were all together, nothing will stop us," Butch promised, taking Buttercup's free hand beside him as Blossom took the other vacant hand of the green-eyed girl. His emerald eyes connected with Boomer's, as the others each did the same too. "That's the one thing we can all count on."

Boomer, for the first time in the day, felt an ease to the air around him. His body moved without a command, making his way over to the hospital bed. He found his hands reaching out for Bubbles and Butch's respectively. A small smile escaped from his lips.

 _Together. That was how they should be_.

* * *

 _November 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Boomer let out a yawn right after knocking on Brick's front door. He had planned on stopping by in the afternoon when he suspected Blossom would be alone, but after sleeping away most of the day due to his late night adventure, he made the trip at six p.m.

It took a few seconds before Blossom opened the door. Her head was turned over her shoulder as she was laughing at something said between her and Brick, before greeting Boomer with a slightly shock—but the good kind of surprised—expression.

"Boomer, I, um, was not expecting to see you," she stumbled, trying to not get too ahead of herself.

"Yeah," he exhaled, scratching at the back of his head. "I probably should have texted first as a warning, but um…" The blond paused as he took a look inside the home. The two redheads had been in the middle of, what it appeared to be, dinner. "Can we talk—Or I could come back another time?"

"No, no," Blossom said quickly. "We can definitely talk if you need to."

"Okay." He gestured to his side of the door, subtlety asking for her to join him outside. She arched an eyebrow, silently questioning why he could not talk in front of Brick also. Boomer stared at her knowingly, "I, um… I think you would prefer for it to be between us."

"Oh, um, okay," she flurried out before letting Brick know they would be talking outside for a moment. She shut the door behind her, joining Boomer with her arms crossed in a protective manner, her lips pursed before speaking, "So… what's up?"

Boomer shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts, kicking lightly at the sand on the ground. "I believe I have figured out a way to beat Him and, um… Yeah, that's what's up, I guess."

Blossom raised her eyebrows in surprise, her mouth making a perfect circle for a moment. "Does—Does this mean you've decided to take over as the leader?"

"I…" Boomer swallowed harshly, nodding his head slowly. The foghorn in his mind returned but Boomer allowed it to guide him instead of fighting against it. "I believe so…"

Before he could blink, Blossom had thrown her arms out to hug him. Her small frame was pressed up against his lanky one as she felt herself being drawn into a vision of the past.

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Location Unknown_

 _Unknown Time..._

Boomer glanced through his rear-view mirror. The buildings of Townsville were becoming smaller and smaller with each passing moment. It was all a small blimp in his sight.

His stomach ached from the appearance of the backseats of his car being littered with his belongings. Anything he thought he would need, Boomer took it. All in the veil of the night did Boomer pack up and throw his things into his car. It was his secret.

No one needed to know.

No one would care.

No one would notice.

They would never take a moment to stop and think about how they needed him. He was holding them back anyways. They wanted to fight. To save the town.

Well, Boomer has thought it over and all fighting could do was get them killed. He did not want to be a tragedy waiting to happen. The noises in his head brought him in to such a conclusion. The thunderstorm of fear was soak up by his system and drove him out of town.

His friends did not need him. Nor did he allow himself to believe they would. They were greater than he would ever be. They would be the heroes Townsville needed.

And no one would ever need him. That was his destiny.

Leaving was his only option. _To be like his dad_ , Boomer realized. Avoiding those who cared about him and running away without a word. That was the option he was willingly to see. Nothing else.

Nevermind how pathetic he felt. Or how he felt like a traitor to his friends for leaving them. The inescapable thoughts of how he was a loser.

He was not ready to fight. He never would be.

Not with how he was.

* * *

 _November 15th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

Blossom blinked her eyes rapidly. Her smile, unknowing to Boomer, faltered for a moment before a broad, proud one struck across her lips. Her arms held him tighter, squeezing him a good amount.

"You don't know how much this means to me, Boomer," she whispered to him.

The blond hugged her back, gratefully to relieve the weight baring her down for the past few months. While he knew the heaviness of the position was now on him, Boomer was ready to try and push himself to get through the hiccups of being the leader.

Success or failure, he was willing to try this time around.

"But, um… There's one thing I must know before I tell you my plan," Boomer vocalized as they separated.

"Alright. What is it?"

Boomer met her eyes like a laser. "What are you hiding?"

"I…"

He watched as Blossom became frozen. Her demeanor becoming similar to how she was when she approached him with the idea of becoming the new leader a few days ago.

She let out a humorless chuckle, shaking her head. "This is why you wanted to talk outside."

"Unfortunately, yes," he said cautiously.

"Well…" Blossom let out a sigh, combing a hand through her hair. "I found out the real reason for the time loop..."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. It must have taken him a whole minute to realize what she was implying.

His lips formed an "O" shape as he followed through with an incoherent ramble of noises. "Wha–Ho–Yo–W–H–Wh–Huh? _What_?" He exclaimed.

Rose-colored eyes became soft. Her voice explaining what happened in a delicate manner, "I did it to save Brick's life in the first timeline and now it's become my subconscious instinct at fixing things."

"Do you…"

Boomer closed his mouth, trying to fix the dryness he felt from keeping it open for too long. This did change what he originally had planned for Him's defeat. It was his first case of hiccups as leader. An unknown in which brought a rush of doubts and questions of reconsideration to the forefront of his mind. But the blond was not going to let this knock him off course.

He was going to power on.

"What are _we_ going to do to fix this, Blossom _?"_

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hey everyone!**

 **It's been awhile, hasn't it? Life got busy and I went through a big ol' case of writer's block. After the last chapter, I was a bit depleted of energy and creativity but I've gotten back into the swing of things with both of my stories.**

 **This chapter was a long process of debating on what I wanted for Boomer. I originally planned for this chapter to be very flashback heavy with each scene flipping back and forth from the present and past. And it was also going to be more of a downer (which looking back on it, all I can say is _yikes_ ) because I was going to based this chapter on the various reasons as to why Boomer would be pulled away (the push and pull of the water was my original inspiration for his two chapters. And yes, it was based on an ATLA reference too) from the others and wanting to be a part of anything. But then I started to realize Boomer's conflict was more a present one as was the central plot of the story at the moment. Once I made the changes, the chapter was reborn *wink, wink*. I may have also gotten inspired to make this chapter a bit more hopeful after the previous ones. Thus, a rebirth (Which, tragically, I may have gotten influenced by _D.C. Comic's_ own Rebirth series for inspiration to be more hopeful. It was also a nice, little nod towards Boomer's love of comic books) to not only Boomer's character but also the story. **

**I do hope I did Boomer justice after pushing back his chapter for such a long period of time (His original chapter was supposed to come out a year ago...). The blond is definitely not the easiest to write, I have to admit.**

 **With this chapter out, the end is in sight. There are _only_ six more chapters planned for this story and I cannot wait for y'all to see what I have planned. **

**Also for those who have checked out the _Pinterest_ board I have created for this story, I have now published every board for each character. If you have not seen them, I highly recommend checking it out as I believe it gives another level of detail to each characters' personality and aesthetic. The link is on my profile. Btw, thank you to those who have commented on my boards in the reviews. I truly appreciate it.**

 **For those who reviewed last chapter:**

 **To Jaalk5, thank you for always taking the time to review. Every time I post a chapter for this story, I get excited to see what you think. Blossom and her mom's scene was definitely my favorite of last chapter too. I am also excited to see Boomer take on the role as leader, which will be expanded upon in the next few chapters. Once again, thank you for the support!**

 **To Anahearts, I'm glad you liked the trip through the past timelines for the previous chapter. I was super nervous about it being too much or too confusion, to say the least. I relate to Boomer too. Overthinking is like a superpower of mine but, like Boomer, it can be our strength at times.**

 **Lastly, thank you for reading and please review!**


	14. The Meltdown

_July 21st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Twelve years ago..._

It was monsoon season in Arizona. The force of the thunder shook the wooden frames of homes. Raindrops pounded against the shingles of roofs and collected on window frames. Lightning flashed through the raging clouds, striking across the sky in a brief jolt.

For a seven year old, nothing seemed scarier to Bubbles. With the loudness of the thunder and its ability to shake her whole home. How dark and ominous the thunderclouds were—and at seven, Bubbles was still clinging on to her fear of the dark, so the grim weather did not help. The worrisome belief of how the big thunderstorm would never allow the sun to shine again.

It all made Bubbles want to cower in fear. To cry until it was over. Her lungs burned from her cries. Hot sticky tears coated her cheeks as she blew her nose into the fabric of her comforter. She found herself calling out for her mom and dad. For them to put on their cape and to be the hero to save her from the scary storm.

Her mom was the one to be at her door immediately. Kind baby blue conveyed her sympathy for her daughter.

She went to Bubbles' side. Her arm draped over her daughter, pulling her close. Bubbles was like glue to her, wrapping her short arms around her mother's waist, willing to never let her go.

Karen ran a hand through Bubbles' curls, smoothing them down. "Shhh, it's going to be okay," she soothed, using a similar tone she employed when consoling one of her students.

"It's—It's so scary," Bubbles choked out. Her voice was fragile and innocent. Her head buried more into her mother's chest. The thumping of Ms. Keane's heart gave her a small distraction from the storm outside of her window.

"I know, baby, I know."

Her mom lifted Bubbles' chin up gently. The tip of her thumb wipe away a few of Bubbles' tears. Her baby blue eyes took in her daughter's red, puffy cheeks and the clear snot coming out of her nose.

She smiled at Bubbles, "Take in deep breaths, Bubbles. Like this." Ms. Keane inhaled loudly, waiting a few seconds before huffing out some hot air in an exemplary way. Bubbles followed suit, doing exactly what her mom showed her. Karen nodded proudly, "Good girl. Now I want you to keep doing that, alright? And while you do that, focus on my voice. Not on the rain and the big bad thunder and lightning outside, but on my voice, okay?"

Bubbles nodded, finding herself lost in the therapeutic repetition of taking in deep breaths. Her ear vibrated from the subtle humming collecting in her mother's throat that flowed into her chest. Her attention singled in on her mom's voice and her voice only.

" _Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high. And the dreams that you dream of once in a lullaby_ …"

Bubbles lost herself in her mother's song. The fears in her body seemed to have melted all away. No longer did the thunder and lightning frighten her in the moment.

Instead, Bubbles found herself dreaming about the beautiful rainbows the storm would leave in its departure.

* * *

 _November 16th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

"I know this is upsetting, Bubbles, but your father and I think it's for the best," her mom consoled. She watched her daughter ingest the news with misty eyes.

Bubbles blinked at her parents. They had sat her down before she left for work, making the bold decision to inform her about their recent decision to file for divorce.

Bubbles was not sure what she was supposed to feel. Hindsight, perhaps. Once she found out about her father's infidelity, Bubbles should have expected this result to come eventually. Then there was also the constant fighting and resentment her parents were plagued with.

Maybe she should feel outraged. That her dad had tore up their family. Her parents were not perfect, but there were times where they did work. When there was a minimum of fighting and they actually had moments where they seemed to love each other.

But Bubbles knew that was a lie.

Her parents did not love each other. They have not for a long time. They were more like roommates by now. Co-inhabitants who could not stand each other. The only thing that has kept them together this long was obviously Bubbles.

The news did not affect her in the way Bubbles had originally imagined it would. She had a looming feeling it would come but Bubbles had believed she would have been a bit more devastated. She would have cried and taken her time to mourn the definitive end to her parents' relationship.

Yet, all Bubbles felt was numbness.

Her emotions were practically nonexistent and have been for awhile. Ever since the night on Halloween, Bubbles has dealt with the frost spreading and thickening in her chest. She has grown colder. Apathetic, unattached, and, most of all, numb.

It was a struggle for her to even pretend anymore. To appear happy for her friends and loved ones. There was no joy in her. No laughter. No emotions for her to feel.

They were all sunken in by the iceberg weighing her down.

With Him, Brat's death, and her parents; Bubbles has spent a long time repressing and burying away her feelings. They were not allowed to be felt, and soon enough, most of her emotions were not even being addressed. They were instead frozen over and encased in a thick ice with nothing seeming to be able to melt them free.

So she did not say much to her parents. A simple " _Okay, I understand_ ," and " _No, you don't have to explain why. It's fine_ ," were all Bubbles found herself allowed to say before walking out the door to a blazing heat she could not even feel.

* * *

 _September 7th_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Two months ago..._

When Mike told Bubbles he had a special date planned, she never would have guessed he was taking her to the annual Citiesville fair. It was an event that she had attended a few times in her youth but as she has gotten older, Bubbles had sort of forgot about the entire thing.

Now that she was there, Bubbles wished she never did.

Millions of neon lights bled together in each direction; forming an unusual pairing of being a bit nauseating and mesmerizing all at the same time. The sound of childrens' laughter delighted her ears. The smell of cotton candy and funnel cake left a sugary taste to the air. The finely cut grass of the fair lot was scratching at her feet through the skin exposed by her sandals.

It was an overload to her senses but Bubbles did not mind. It was a pleasant change of pace from the dark cloud that was her home life. From the strangeness that occurred on Labor Day at the lake. Or the other day at Blossom's home...

This was her moment to forget about all of her troubles. The break she desperately wanted.

And there was no one she would rather spend it with than her boyfriend.

"So where to first?" Mike inquired after joining her side. His hand went to stuff a good amount of red paper tickets into a pocket of his khaki shorts.

Bubbles' light blue eyes sparkled with excitement from all the choices she could make. There was the twirl-a-whirl. The stomach twisting roller-coaster they had. The carousel had always been a personal favorite of her's. Then there was the Ferris wheel and the fluttering feeling of sharing a moment on the ride with a boy she cared dearly about.

But something else caught her eye.

She laced her hand with Mike's, gathering his attention to gestured over to one of the carnival game booths. It was the one where an individual had to throw a ball to knock over a milk bottle.

Bubbles pointed with her free hand, singling out one of the prizes available. "Why don't you win me that elephant plushie?"

The glow of the lights caught Mike's eyes, allowing his pupils to stand out through the dark pools of his brown eyes. He cast a look of affection at Bubbles and made a move for the game booth, to which Bubbles followed alongside him. They joined the back of a short line but neither minded the wait.

"You think I can actually win this?" He inquired. His eyes grew wide as he watched a guy about ten years older than him strike out on winning his kid a prize—to which, the poor kid started to have a meltdown over. "There's so much pressure and responsibility to make sure you earn the prize you deserve."

" _With great power, comes great responsibility_ , Believe," Bubbles quipped.

Mike arched an eyebrow, "That's from _Spider-man_ , right?"

"Correct."

"Huh. I didn't know you were into him."

"Oh, I'm not," Bubbles laughed off gently, taking a step forward with the line in front of them. "Most comic book references I know come from my friend, Boomer. He could go on and on about comics sometimes."

"Is it as bad as when I talk about marine life?"

Bubbles shook her head. She took her free hand to ran across Mike's cheek affectionately. Her fingers were pricked by his short stubble.

"There's nothing bad about it. I enjoy hearing about your interests."

Mike flashed an appreciative smile at her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "And I enjoy your company," he said softly to her when he pulled back.

"I think that feeling is more than mutual."

She could see a struggle begin to formulate in Mike. His dark brown eyes were glazed over a little. The palm of his hand became a bit more sweaty as he cleared his throat.

"Bubbles, I think I should tell you—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Bubbles felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find a couple about two or three years younger than her staring at her and Mike with annoyance.

"It's your turn," the girl pointed out in an irritated tone.

Bubbles glanced over her shoulder back to the game booth in front of them, finding the line that once was there before them had disappeared.

Her and Mike apologized to the couple, taking the short steps to reach the front of the line. The guy running the booth smiled at the two with amusement. His sunken face and shifty eyes reminded Bubbles of why her mom was never too fond of the fair in Citiesville.

"Trying to win a prize for your lady friend?" He asked, eyeing an uncomfortable Bubbles for a little too long. She subconsciously pulled at her skirt to hide a bit of her tan thighs from his lingering eye.

"That's the plan," Mike answered, pulling out some of the tickets from his pocket and handing over the amount needed to play the game.

The guy behind the booth took the tickets, ripping them in half and disposing them in a jar beside him. He then reached for three balls in a basket and handed them to Mike. His hand gestured over to the four shelves holding sparse rows of empty glass milk bottles behind him.

"The name of the game here is for ya' to knock down those milk bottles. Knock down one, and you get a small prize," the guy explained, nodding over to the tiny stuffed animals he had on display. He then pointed up to the mid-sized ones. "Get two, and you have the choice of two small prizes or a medium size stuffed animal." He arched one of his poor-groomed eyebrows. The lights from the booth captured the grease in his skin, contouring the lines by his mouth and his sunken cheeks. "If you're lucky enough to manage to hit _three_ bottles, then you would be able to choose from the top prizes."

Mike and Bubbles both stared at the plush stuffed elephant that happened to be in the top prize category. It was big enough to be half of her size and was also designed in her favorite color—royal blue.

"You got this," she encouraged, nudging Mike's side. "I _believe_ in you."

Mike rolled his eyes playfully, unable to hide the grin on his face. "And here I was thinking I was the dork in this relationship."

Bubbles laughed off his comment as he picked up one of the balls he was given. He tossed it up a little, getting a feel of the weight. His brown eyes surveyed the rows of milk bottles, trying to find the one he wanted to hit first. Once he figured it out—right corner, second to the end on the fourth shelf—Mike winded up his arm and threw the ball, making contact with the bottle.

With a _ping_ echoing around them, the first milk bottle tilted over, wobbling around the shelf as if it was debating on whether to allow itself to fall or not. In the last second, the bottle took the daring plunge to the ground.

Bubbles clapped happily, excited and proud of Mike hitting one of the bottles.

Mike, in midst of winding up his arm to throw another, got distracted by Bubbles' glee. He instantly melted at the sight of her. A smile brighter than the lights around them was painted across his lips. The warmth of knowing he could cause such a sight of happiness from her, bubbled in his chest with no objections.

The sound of screams coming from the nearby roller-coaster brought him back to the moment and what he was doing. In a hasty nature, he threw another ball before anyone yelled at him for taking too long.

This one chipped at the side of a bottle, moving the object an inch on the shelf but failed to knock it over.

Disappointment flooded his system as he turned to Bubbles with apologetic eyes.

"I'm sorry, Bubbles. I shouldn't have rush that—"

The blonde perched a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay," she said gently. While Bubbles did have her heart set on the particular stuffed animal they could no longer win, she was not going to make Mike feel bad about it. "I can survive without the elephant."

"But—"

"Buddy, you have one more throw and you're holding up the line. Can you just throw your last ball already?" The guy in charge of the booth interjected. Irritation, the same as the couple behind them, was easily read across his grimy face.

Mike jumped at being asked to move along with the game. He gripped his last ball, singling in on a bottle dead set in the middle. As he released the ball, Mike simply hoped he threw the ball with enough force to at least win Bubbles a medium-sized stuffed animal.

He watched, to his horror, as the ball flew right pass a milk bottle and into the canvas behind the shelf with an loud thump.

"Welp, looks like your lady has to settle for a small prize," the guy commented, laughing at Mike's dismay. He went to grab a stuffed octopus from the side of the booth as he was not going to waste any more time by letting the couple pick out their prize. "Here you go, blondie."

Bubbles caught the stuffed animal the guy threw at her, making an effort to not acknowledge the wink he made in her direction. She took a step back from the booth to move out of the way of the others behind them. Mike joined her side, obviously upset with himself for not winning her the prize she wanted.

"I'm so sorry, Bubbles. I could try again if you want," Mike suggested, running a hand throw his short, dirty blond hair. "That is if I don't screw up and choke again. Maybe we should try another game? Or do you think I can bribe him? I did get a nice tip the other day."

Bubbles did not pay much attention to Mike's words as she was too focused on the small stuffed animal in her hands. It was put together with a mauve-colored fabric that was more felt than soft and plush. A small black top hat was sewn on its head—a feature in which confused Bubbles a little as to why it was added but nonetheless—and had big yellow eyes that stared animatedly back at her. Tiny polka dots were designed onto its eight legs, taking on a darker shade of purple that was similar to one of an eggplant.

Slowly, a smile spread across her face as she stared down fondly at the stuffed animal.

"Bubbles?"

"Huh?" She said involuntarily, looking up to meet her boyfriend's eyes.

"I was asking if you wanted to try getting a better prize?"

Bubbles shook her head, "I actually like this one." She moved the stuffed animal to her arms as she hugged it, swaying a little. "It sort of reminds me of you and when we met."

Mike arched an eyebrow, grinning, "You mean when I wouldn't stop talking about octopuses?"

The blonde nodded, thinking back to the moment in which took place only a few months ago. Mike has been in her life for such a short span of time but Bubbles was grateful for every single of it. He made things feel easier for her. Especially when she wanted an escape from worrying about her frigid side effect and whatever happened to cause her friends and her to have supernatural abilities.

"Yeah," Bubbles answered with a certain breathy tone to her voice. "It was also the moment where I realized how adorable you were."

Mike moved closer to her, leaving no space between them. She placed her new stuffed animal under her right arm, clutching onto it like a small child would, while reaching for Mike's hand with her left.

A wave of calmness rolled into him as he cleared his throat. "I, uh, tried telling you back there but I, um, feel like this is a better moment," he began. His cheeks flared up in a red hue from his nerves. "But I, uh… I wanted to tell you that I," Mike smiled bashfully at her. "I love you, Bubbles."

Bubbles felt her face fall for a second. Her mind was transported to her parents.

 _Love did not exist_.

How could she say those three words when she felt herself growing cold to the idea of love being real?

In the midst of the whirling kaleidoscope of colors and lights flashing across their faces, where Mike decided to say he loved her in between a carnival game booth and a funnel cake stand, Bubbles felt her side effect rearing its naughty self.

A frost grew under her fingernails, trying to coat the rest of her hands. Her light blue eyes went to her fingers, panic striking her as she knew Mike would feel it. He would ask why and see her powers and how freaky she has become.

But he did not.

The ice was not able to spread—much to her relief. Bubbles glanced back up to Mike, finding him unfazed. He had not noticed her freaking out. Therefore, he has stayed looking at her as if she was the most incredible human to ever live.

Bubbles felt herself soften, becoming a puddle from Mike's stare. _He was precious_ , she decided. The single clear sky day to the many storms she has battled against lately. The one who kept her flying high despite the heavy gravity of her life.

The person she found herself able to fall in love with despite her growing doubts of such a thing existing.

She pressed her lips against his' sweetly. Her eyes shining as Bubbles pulled back. The word she was so fearful of now, rolled off her tongue without much conflict.

" _I love you too, Mike_."

* * *

 _November 17th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Bubbles has never thought about what it would be like to leave Townsville. Yes, she made a pact with her friends to leave together but other than that certain extent, she did not carry the same ache in her chest to find more like her friends did. Perhaps it was because she had been content with her life in town. That she had comfortably settled into a nice bubble of familiarity and safety. She had her friends. She had her parents. She held a decent job. Why would she have a reason to leave?

Well, Bubbles now knew a few reasons.

She would not have to live in the toxic household her parents have created. She would not have to go to the extreme lengths to avoid her friends with covering as many doubles Boogie was willing to give her. She would not have to play into the facade of who she used to be...

Bubbles would leave Townsville if she was not so defeated. With her limited time, all she really had to live for was her job. It was the only thing getting her up in the morning. Only thing she could find herself comfort enough to think about without her thoughts getting misguided.

Whether she had to deal with rude customers, scarce tips or toddlers knocking over a milkshake for nth time of the day, Bubbles could only function at work. It was like she was on autopilot most of the time but Bubbles was not able to care. The familiarity was a pleasant web she was willing to embed herself in, even if she acknowledged how it was slowly suffocating the life out of her.

The blonde has ran into a problem lately, however. With being such a prominent fixture at Otto's by now, her frequent customers were getting concerned. They wanted to know why she seemed so troubled. Why she did not have a bubbly smile anymore.

Bubbles did not say much to them, unable to put on her mask for them. She would simply move along with her service, aloof and without a realm of being present for her customers. Her tips have been suffering greatly but Bubbles could not find herself able to care.

She could not find herself able to care about much at all lately.

By the time her shift was coming to an end, Bubbles resisted at the thought of heading home. Her parents were probably going to try talking about their divorce to her again as they had done the night before—they were not exactly reassured with their concerns for her by the lack of a proper response from her yesterday morning. They are probably going to project their worries towards her lack of emotions on the subject again.

They would acknowledge how something seemed wrong with her.

She headed into the kitchen, dropping off a pair of dirty dishes from one of her last remaining tables and went back into the dining area. Her light blue eyes were instantly captured by a particular blond at the end of the counter seating. A sheepish grin was on full display by him.

Bubbles chewed down on her bottom lip. The last time she had seen Boomer, Bubbles was not particularly sure on what to make of that day. She was aware of how rude she was being in his presence. He needed her and Bubbles barely made an effort to display she was there for him. In hindsight, Bubbles should have guessed he would have left abruptly like he did.

It did not change how negatively it made her feel about herself and how much she disdained what she has become.

Her heart wanted her to chase after him that day. To find out the true depths of what was troubling him and to try bringing a smile onto his face. That was what the old her would have done. But the new her—the icier her—kept her heart locked away and did not allow such a thing.

She made slow steps towards him, not even capable of the faintest smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Boomer breathed as if he had been holding his breath the entire time. Perhaps he was afraid Bubbles would have not approached him. He took turns knocking both of his fists into the solid surface of the diner's counter, doing his best to keep eye contact with her. "So I, um, wanted to apologize for the other day. I was a bit weird—weirder than normal, at least. And I shouldn't have left like that."

"It's fine," she replied in a quiet manner. Her vision was becoming a bit glazy. Frost coated her fingernails, waiting for the opportunity to sprout more.

Boomer opened his mouth, looking as if he was going to say more but at the last second, he thought against it. His hand went to rub the back of his neck. His ocean blue eyes were clearer than Bubbles has ever seen them to be since the original night at the lake.

In this moment, it made Bubbles realize how much Boomer was reminding her of a much simpler time. When things were not so confusing and complicated. When thoughts of their impending doom were not so consistent and Bubbles could control her actions.

She felt a few words inching their way onto the tip of her tongue. Her heart was still there and it wanted to tell him—No, _needed_ to tell him. Tell him what was going on. Why she was acting so strange.

How much she needed his friendship.

She heard him clear his throat, hesitating to speak, "I was, um, wondering if you would consider speaking to Blossom sometime soon." The corner of his mouth flashed upward for a moment to make the gesture of his words seem more lightweight. "She misses you."

Bubbles blinked at him.

She _exactly_ what he meant.

Blossom had roped him back into her schemes. She had the advantage of numbers now. More of a reason she could use to persuade Bubbles into rejoining their efforts.

The frustration Bubbles wanted to express from the implication was turned into nothing but frost. The coldness in her chest added another layer, consuming the emotions she was unable to convey.

She darted her attention away from Boomer, sticking her nose up to the idea. Her heart ached with a great sorrow at the knowledge of her rejecting her friends. Of not caring about their feelings or concerns.

But that part of her was no longer in control.

"No. I don't believe that is something I want to do."

* * *

 _October 31st_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Two years ago…_

Bubbles raced through Princess' home. Her heels clicked against the marble tiling in her search for a balcony. The irony of her being dressed as _Cinderella_ while running away from a party was not lost on her but that was not her focus.

Her focus was on finding Boomer and getting him through a panic attack Robin had informed her about.

She let out a small and short breath of relief when she found him. His lanky body was hunched over the railing of the balcony. A white-knuckle grip held onto the stone railing with all his might. His shoulders moved up and down erratically like the waves of the sea during a storm, failing to find a rhythm while he struggled to breathe.

Bubbles rushed out onto the balcony. Her body moved without a command as she grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the railing. His ocean blue eyes were glassy with unshed tears, shocked to see her. He tried to say something to her but it was incoherent through his hyperventilate. His body crumbled to ground, sinking him to his knees.

The blonde went to her knees too, cupping the sides of his face, trying to gain his sole focus. He grew still under her touch; all except for his chest moving in a rapid pace and his shaky hands.

"Boomer, you need to take in deep breaths," she advised. Bubbles joined him in the action, filling up her chest widely with air and exhaling loudly. His chest was slowed a little as he continued to follow her lead, taking in steady breaths. "That's it," Bubbles smiled softly.

Her finger went to tuck a strand of golden hair out of his face. The fear she held for his safety simmered out of her system. All she felt was the need to protect Boomer and make sure he was okay.

Boomer moved to sit on the ground of the balcony, leaning his back into the railing. Bubbles followed his action to be right by his side, reaching for his hand to let him know she was still there for him. His body was stiff for a moment or two before he released some of the tightness bundled up in him. His head slowly fell to her shoulder as he closed his eyes. The aftermath of the panic attack was still tearing at his chest. The energy it drained from him left Boomer mentally exhausted and physically weak.

Bubbles wanted to provide him with comfort. To ease the upset feelings in which caused his panic attack.

She found herself falling back into what her mom would do. The blonde began to hum to herself, hoping to take Boomer's mind off of whatever was bothering him. Just as her mom's singing would do for her.

" _Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high. And the dreams that you dream of once in a lullaby… Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. And the dreams that you dream of. Dreams really do come true_ …"

As she sang to him a song she knew by heart—A song, in which, meant way too much to her and was her security blanket of comfort—Bubbles felt the tension slowly trickle out of Boomer. A faint smile was found on his lips as he focused his thoughts and attention on her and her angelic voice.

On the angel who was there for him when he needed her.

* * *

 _August 27th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Two months ago…_

"And then after I told him what I knew, he didn't even bother to deny anything. He basically admitted to using me but then said he did love me and it was a gradual decision for him to do what he did. I... I just don't know _how_ someone could be so manipulative and cruel," Blossom finished off dolefully.

She, Buttercup, and Bubbles were in her room, enjoying a night of pizza and girl talk. Blossom sat cross-legged on her bed, making sure to avoid getting any grease from the pizza on her bedding. Buttercup claimed Blossom's desk chair, propping her feet up on the desk despite Blossom's protest. And Bubbles made herself comfortable by laying on a pile of pillows on Blossom's floor. The box of an extra large, extra cheese pizza also sat in front of the her.

"Men are gross, Bloss. It's nothing new," Buttercup commented, leaning back into the desk chair more. "But that Henry guy sounds like a total piece of shit—a piece of shit, that may I add, I would love to shred into pieces."

Blossom tried her best not to smile at Buttercup's comment. "Thanks."

Bubbles flickered her eyes between the two, pleased to see them getting along _finally_. She was caught off guard when Buttercup told her about their plans for the night and _who_ they were with but Bubbles was every bit of excited to have her two best friends back on speaking terms with each other.

Everything was normal again.

Well, except for them having weird abilities but Bubbles did not want to focus on that. Not when she was able to be in a room with both Blossom and Buttercup for the first time in over a year without any tension.

"It pisses me off though. How he just took advantage of you and made you sleep with him," Buttercup fumed, narrowing her eyes at no one in particular.

"He didn't make me," Blossom said quietly. She hung her head in shame, aligning her vision with her lap. "It was more of me thinking that was what I was supposed to do in order to avoid fighting. That having sex with him was what I was supposed to do because I loved him."

"Bloss," Bubbles pitched with sympathy.

"I know, I know. I should have known better but… I didn't have anyone when I was at MIT. It was my fault, I get it but Henry… _he was there_. He was the only one I found myself wanting and needing. Looking back at it, I feel icky and gross for what I did and letting him become who I depended on but I–I didn't know better. Not when I didn't trust myself and all I had was the lies I was buying into from him. Not when I wanted to prove to myself that I was capable of keeping a relationship and not destroying one after everything that happened here."

Blossom's confession hung in the air. Neither Bubbles and Buttercup knew exactly what they should say. Both experiencing a spell of guilt that they knew Blossom did not mean to inflict onto them. Blossom was simply explaining her reasoning as to what happened. Yet, Bubbles and Buttercup knew things would have been different if they simply did not abandon her in the first place.

"We're not judging you," Bubbles said softly. "I'm just glad you're not in that situation anymore. That you have us again."

Blossom, who was avoiding both of the gazes settled on her, looked up at Bubbles with appreciation. " _Me too_."

Light blue eyes went to Buttercup, waiting for her to say anything more on the subject but she reminded mum. Her lips were pressed tightly as her green eyes were consumed by a grief over what happened. To Blossom and Bubbles, it was clear how Buttercup felt and thus did not need to be backed with any words.

"So…" Blossom eased to break them out of the tense air filling up the room. Her rose-colored eyes glanced at Buttercup with interest. " _You and Butch?_ "

"Yes, me and Butch," Buttercup affirmed with the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

"How _exactly_ did that happen?" Blossom questioned while Bubbles giggled to herself.

Buttercup sighed, pretending to seem irritated, "If you must know, it started when we slept with each other at his junior prom."

"Wait. You _slept_ with him when we were sophomores?" Blossom repeated with a wide pair of eyes. "That would mean—"

"That he was my first?" Buttercup finished for her and then nodded to answer her question. "I was his first too."

"But I thought Bryan Mendez from your junior year English class was your first."

Buttercup crossed her arms, shaking her head once with an amused grin. " _Nope_. He was just the first guy I told you about having sex with. Which was because I wanted to pretend the whole thing with Butch and I never happened."

"I never really got why you wanted that," Bubbles commented, her brows furrowed in thought.

"I was confused," Buttercup shrugged. "Butch had been in my life for such a long time and our friendship meant a lot to me. I didn't want to go and ruin it by getting together and having a bad break up."

"So then what changed your mind?" Blossom asked before taking a bite out of the single slice of pizza on her plate.

"No one was Butch," she confessed in a breath. Buttercup scratched at the back of her head awkwardly. "No one made me laugh like him or was as thoughtful as him. No one had our history or bond. No one cared about me like he did. No one made me fall like he did."

"Awwww," Bubbles cooed despite having heard a similar response from Buttercup before.

"That is pretty sweet of you to say, Buttercup," Blossom added, beaming happily at her friend's love life.

Buttercup rolled her eyes but was unable to hide the giddy smile on her lips. "Yeah, whatever."

"You know, I've always wondered if it's weird for you."

"If what is weird, Bubs?"

Bubbles felt her cheeks grow warm. Even though she has sat through plenty of conversations with Buttercup about Butch and their relationship, the blonde never asked her about their sex life. It was a topic the blonde felt should be kept private and, quite frankly, was never spoken about before within their group. Yeah, Buttercup told Blossom and Bubbles who she had slept with during their last two years of high school, but none of them talked about the details. It was more of a " _Yeah, so this happened..._ " type of situation and none of them piped in on wanting some elaboration.

So when Blossom had divulged into her retelling of her time at MIT and told them about sleeping with Henry, it caught Bubbles off guard. Blossom spared them from certain details but she did tell them about things Henry did when they had sex or how he went about initiating it. It was the most candid and explicit Bubbles had ever heard Blossom talk.

While they were on the topic, and with Bubbles feeling the veil over their eyes having been lifted for the three of them now, perhaps it was time to not shy away from talking about sex.

"To sleep with someone who you've known since you were practically a toddler?" She questioned. "Like you've seen him go through puberty and his awkward phase without any censorship."

"Well to be fair, Butch never had an awkward phase," Blossom added in. "He's always been cute."

"Yeah, he wasn't like Mitch who tragically became a victim to wearing headgear for two years in middle school," Buttercup recalled.

"That was _not_ a pretty time for him," Blossom commented, displaying sympathy for the brunet who was not present to see.

"At least he has a nice smile now. Got something good out of those two miserable years," Buttercup settled before flicking her eyes over to Bubbles. "And to answer your question, it wasn't. Being physically intimate with someone has never been particularly difficult for me. And given the first time Butch and I had sex was based on me being impulsive, I've never had the chance to put much thought to that. It was understanding the depths of my feelings I had for him that was difficult because I never fell for someone so hard as I have for Butch."

"Then has he ever said anything about you and the other guys you hooked up with in between his junior prom and when you got together?" Bubbles followed.

Buttercup shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms in a protective manner. "He hasn't said anything about the other guys, so I don't think he cares at all. And it's not like he has room to talk."

Blossom arched an eyebrow, "What do you mean by that?"

"I know he wasn't exactly _without_ in the two years we weren't together."

"How so?"

"Ummm, Butch definitely knows what he's doing now," Buttercup said, feeling like the question Blossom asked should have been self-explanatory. "Like _really_ knows—especially with his tongue," Buttercup continued with a suggestive grin and not an ounce of shame as Blossom and Bubbles both reddened a little from her lacking to spare the detail from their ears. "There's some things he knows that I hadn't experienced beforehand. And I have a pretty good feeling he didn't exactly learn all of it from simply watching porn."

"And that doesn't bother you?" Bubbles inquired.

"We weren't together, so…" Buttercup found herself becoming mute for a moment. A heavy sigh was expelled from her lips as she drifted her light green eyes to the polished hardwood floors of Blossom's room. "There are a few times when I walk pass a random group of girls in town or at the mall in Citiesville and wonder ' _Was it her?_ ', but I try not to think about it. And then there was the time at Princess' birthday party, which I—" Buttercup shook her head, not allowing herself to think about that night and what she believed she saw between him and a certain orange-haired punk. She inhaled a tight breath, glancing up to meet Bubbles' eyes. "What happened, happened. I can't do anything about it now."

"How pragmatic of you," Blossom smiled, hoping to lift Buttercup away from the heaviness she was caught under from the question.

"Thanks."

"Hey, at least Butch sounds good," Blossom pointed out, continuing her attempt to mend Buttercup's shift in mood. "Henry wasn't exactly the most generous person to be with."

"That sounds about right," Buttercup quipped, letting a small chuckle escape her lips.

"And don't even get me started on what he considered to be ' _sweet nothings_ '," Blossom cringed.

Buttercup snickered, keeping her laughter down. "Please do tell, Bloss."

Bubbles darted her eyes between her two friends, zoning out of their conversation. She felt out of place. Questions were easy to ask, but relating to what Buttercup and Blossom were discussing was not.

Perhaps this was why the blonde avoided the topic of sex with them. To fray away from the feeling of being left out. In high school, it was Buttercup who was the odd one out. Now, it was Bubbles.

And it was not like Bubbles was anywhere ready to relate to Blossom and Buttercup. Sure, her and Mike were dating but they had only been together for a few months. Those thoughts have not even began to be conceptualized. Furthermore, her friends did not even know he existed.

While Mike did make her feel happy, Bubbles was frightened by the idea of introducing him to her friends. What if he did not like them? What if her friends hate him? What if it scared him away?

 _What if it did not work out?_

Bubbles did not want to put her heart out, display it all for her friends to see, only for Mike to break up with her.

She was the happy one. The one who brought joy to her friends. Not the one who needed to be coddled through a break up.

Therefore, Bubbles wanted to keep Mike a secret until she felt comfortable enough in their relationship.

However, that did not cover the right problem she was engrossing herself into. The problem of feeling left out; of not being on the same level as Blossom and Buttercup plagued her. It was not the pressure to have sex that was disrupting her, but from the new bonus added to Blossom and Buttercup's friendship. They may have just become friends again but Bubbles could not shake the thoughts of how they would prefer the other to her in a certain way now.

It was not like it has occurred before. The friendship between the three of them has always been an equal playing field. Each had their own strengths, flaws, and irksome traits. Yet, Bubbles felt she was without now.

Insecurities she did not even know were buried within her, were being uprooted. The blonde found herself questioning on whether or not Buttercup would have even cared if she upped and left Townsville like Blossom did.

There was something in her. A chill was spreading in her chest as the thought formulated. It coursed through her body, becoming visible first underneath her fingernails. A wicked frost to match her insecure mind.

Bubbles felt her eyes glaze over. The frigid temperature in her caused her body to shiver involuntarily. Her teeth chattered quietly, going unnoticed by words spoken by her two friends.

She ached for a way to calm herself down. To expel the coldness in her. To know why this sudden spell of ice was exposing itself.

Was it…

 _Was it her thoughts?_

Bubbles blinked through the haze she felt herself growing blind in. She took in deep, steady breaths. Bubbles tried to focus on anything but her upsetting ideas.

 _How much she loves her friends. Mike. How funny Boomer could get when going on another one of his rants about comics. Her mom. The special song she would sing to her..._

Bubbles felt the frost stop growing in strength. But it was not gone.

She could still feel the layer of it in her chest. Just sitting there and taking up residence.

It would not melt away like she wanted.

The ice in her had a mind of its own, Bubbles felt. It gripped onto the slightest bit of bad energy in her and used it. It punished her emotions, coating them in a thick layer of frost she had no control over.

A part of her wondered if the insecurities she started to hold towards Blossom and Buttercup was really that _or_ did it originate as a simple twang of feeling left out that sprawled out from being gaslighted by the frost in her.

She could not know for sure. Not when none of them knew what was going. Not when they were following Boomer's suggestion of avoiding whatever happened to stay clear of suspicions.

But that did not stop Bubbles from begging for her new abilities to be gone. To go back to the normal girl she once was.

To no longer feel a pit of ice taking up space in her chest.

"Jesus fucking Christ, that guy was corny," Buttercup laughed boisterously.

Bubbles felt her ears perk up, becoming alert to the conversation happening right before her. She picked at the frost in her nails, forcing herself to pretend she did not slip into the frigid waters of the unknown surrounding her.

After all, Bubbles had to be the happy one. The one who had no problems. The sunshine to others' days despite the dark clouds she slowly had condensing over her head.

"He had his moments," Blossom defended halfheartedly, more on her part than Henry's, with a laugh.

" _Right_ ," Buttercup remarked sarcastically. She then pointed a finger at Blossom. "See. This is why you need to just get with Jojo already. So you can be with someone who is not corny. And also, I don't even know what this Henry dude looks like but I have a feeling Jojo is ten times hotter than he would ever be."

"Wait. Are you guys talking about Brick?" Bubbles found herself questioning in astonishment. The coolness radiated off of her skin as she hung her mouth a little at Blossom.

"There's only one Jojo in town, Bubs."

"I know, Buttercup. It just— _Blossom and Brick_?" She shook her head to indicate how caught off guard she was. "It's strange."

Blossom knitted her eyebrows together, trying not to display how Bubbles' comment upset her a little. "Why?"

"I don't know. Brick's just… _odd_ ," Bubbles attempted to explain in the nicest way she could. "Don't get me wrong. He seems like a nice person but I can't be so sure because he _just_ started hanging out with all of us a couple of months ago."

"Really?"

Bubbles nodded, "Yeah. Boomer told me about how Butch and him have been trying to get Brick to hang out with all of us since high school but he only now became interested in being around Buttercup and I. But it's not like he tries to get to know us—Or let us get to know him. He usually keeps to himself."

"He's always brooding about something," Buttercup pointed out, "Probably about cars and engines or whatever it is mechanics think about." She waved off in a dismissive manner.

Blossom pursed her lips, appearing in heavy thought for a moment. "He's not like that around me."

Buttercup arched an eyebrow suggestively, "Oh, is that so?"

Blossom cleared her throat, becoming flushed immediately. "What I mean is that he is still withholding a bit but we've only hung out a couple of times now and he's told me things about himself. We actually went to _Dairy Queen_ the other night and talked until two in the morning."

"You guys went on a date?" Bubbles jumped, her light blue eyes were wide with excitement.

"No, it wasn't a date—"

"It sure does sound like a date."

"It wasn't a date, Buttercup," Blossom huffed out. She ran a hand through her long orange hair. "It was just us hanging out… In the back of his truck… Under the stars at the Citiesville Airport." Buttercup arched an eyebrow, questioning to Blossom if she was _really_ sure it was not a date. Blossom narrowed her eyes briefly, shaking her head. " _It was not a date._ "

"Fine." Buttercup shrugged off her stare, "But did you want it to be a date?"

"I, um, I," Blossom fumbled out. The skin from her neck up became adorned by a heavy red-tint. "I told you it's, um, a work in progress. One that I'm happy to take slow at the moment."

"You're no fun, Bellum. No fun at all."

* * *

 _November 18th_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

It was Friday.

The one day she was not working doubles at Otto's. It was also the day she planned to meet up with Mike.

In moments where she should feel anxious or a rally of excitement, Bubbles was unable to break through the ice keeping her emotions hostage. It was only the negatives she was allowed to feed on. Thoughts on how he was going to break up with her. How he should not love her. Not when Bubbles was who she has become. Not when she felt like a menace among society.

The harmful words in her head were getting a bit louder in the past few days. Her heart was getting buried under a heap of heavy snow and Bubbles did not know what she could do to shovel it away. There were no escaping the torment building up inside of her. The ice had grown too thick to cut through and it seemed shatterproof.

Regardless, Bubbles drove to Citiesville to see Mike. She wanted the distraction he could give her. The mental break where she could brush upon the slightest bit of happiness she was able to feel.

She met up with him at the mall. In front one of those irresistible pretzel stands that filled the mall's air with a delightful sugary, cinnamon scent to be exact. He had already purchased a carton full of mini pretzels covered in cinnamon-sugar and lemonade for her to consume by the time Bubbles arrived.

Bubbles held a pain-stricken smile when becoming aware of his kind gesture. The frost in her was beginning to freeze her facial expressions, making it difficult to express anything but a dull look.

They took a seat at a nearby table. Mike shivered a little, rubbing at his arms to provide himself some type of warmth.

"It's a bit chilly in here, isn't?"

Bubbles shrugged at his question, not wanting to acknowledge the chill she was radiating. If she did, then it meant Mike no longer kept her stable. That his presence was no longer able to make her forget about the ice in her. That her lost of emotions was too large to overcome.

Instead, the blonde popped a pretzel in her mouth. The flavor was non-existent as she felt nothing but coldness with each bite. It did not stop her from eating anymore. She has gotten used to a lack of taste by now.

"What did you need to talk about?" Bubbles inquired bluntly in between pieces of the pretzels.

The chilling whispers in her head answered her. Telling her that he lied. That he was going to break up with her after all.

That he never loved her.

Love did not exist, so she should not be surprised.

The treacherous thoughts she had were clinging and spreading any fears she could have. A frost could already be found underneath her fingernails.

"Oh, um," Mike rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "I wanted to catch up first before talking about that but, um, I applied for this internship last year." His dark eyes shimmered with excitement while Bubbles did not emote anything. "And it's this freaking crazy opportunity to study sharks and their migration patterns off the coast of Mexico. I didn't think I would be chosen but they called me last week and I got in!"

Her heart fought for control, wanting to be celebratory. To display how proud she was of her boyfriend. This was a well-achieved dream for him, she could obviously tell.

Yet, Bubbles kept to herself. She nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The enthusiasm on Mike's face faltered. He appeared a bit crushed as he looked at Bubbles with concern.

"So, um… I'm leaving for it in May," he revealed in a heavy breath. Mike waited for Bubbles to express _something_. Her worries, elation, a congratulations; anything was better than what he was getting from her. He cleared his throat, knocking his fists into the surface of the table they sat at—an action in which quickly reminded Bubbles of Boomer. "And I know that may be a bit of a problem for us—and this may sound crazy—but I heard they are still looking for someone to translate for the group. And since you know Spanish, I was wondering if you wanted to come with."

"Now I don't want you to make the decision to go because of me. I want you to make the decision to go because you really want to do it. I just, I don't know," he shrugged his shoulders harmlessly, "feel like this would be a great opportunity for you. To get out of Townsville and see the world a little." Mike flashed a sheepish smile. "But I will admit it would be pretty sweet if you came along. I know I wouldn't get lonely and traveling with my girlfriend does sound quite nice."

Bubbles blinked at him.

She was being handed the golden ticket out of Townsville. A prize nearly everyone she knew sought after. And maybe if Bubbles was in the right state of mind, she might have taken the time to consider it.

But what was the point? What was the point of all of this?

 _Her and Mike_.

It was doomed, just as the rest of them. The world was going to end. So why even bother with having a relationship when there was nothing for her to hope for?

In fact, Mike and his proposition was increasing the growth of frost in her chest at the moment.

Love was not worth it. All love did was fade away and destroy her. It was all a lie, Bubbles heard the whispers tell her. A fantasy. A storybook ending she was not deserving of. There was nothing for her.

Nothing except for the numb feelings she had grown accustomed to.

So Bubbles made a decision. The ice took control and made her realize how frivolous she had been with her time. How she has been inconsiderate to Mike for dragging him into the mess she was.

She was unhappy and Mike deserved to spend the last moments he may have, not being weighed down by her misery.

"And if you're worried about how soon it is for us, by the time the internship starts, we'll already have been together for almost a year by then, so I—"

"I think we should break up," the blonde interrupted in a whisper.

She watched as his face fell into shambles. Shock went through him first, then confusion. As if he did not believe he heard her correctly. And finally, it sunk in. Sorrow reflected off of him with such ease.

There was small fissure in her chest. A cut in the ice strong enough to allow her long kept away emotions to spill out a little.

Her eyes were able to become misty, but Bubbles could not let any of it fall. If so, it would freeze upon contact with her skin.

"What? I—Why? I—Bubbles, please," he pleaded. His dark brown eyes stared at her like a wounded puppy. He swallowed roughly, his Adam's apple trembling as he fought through his words. "Was it too fast? Or is it because of me leaving?"

Bubbles shook her head, dabbing at the tears building up in her eyes. The small droplets froze on the side of her hand. Her frosted fingernails went to pick at them, chipping the ice away from her skin.

"I don't think this will work out. It's for the best..."

The ice in her chest was quickly at work. The fracture was being covered by a new layer of frost. Her emotions were slipping away again.

Her heart was being lost again.

The blonde stood up from her chair, scraping the legs across a thin layer of ice. Never mind the frost growing underneath the table that she did not even realize she was spreading. Never mind the heartbroken gaze Mike was giving her.

Bubbles could not handle the influx of emotions thumping in her chest, needing a release. They were trapped. Just as she was trapped by the coldness controlling her.

She ran without a word. Out of the mall and into the parking lot. She ignored Mike calling out to her. The looks she gained by the shoppers frequenting the mall. Most importantly, Bubbles fought off the need for a release.

The blonde sped out of the parking lot of the mall. She raced out of Citiesville as fast _and_ legally as she could.

When she pasted city limits, riding the quiet road connecting Citiesville and Townsville, Bubbles had to pull over. The weight of what she had just done settled into her. The shock became overpowering, chipping a way at the ice in her chest.

The overflow of emotions she kept away were bubbling over and surfacing. The misery she has kept hidden behind a smile and laughter. The guilt she felt from keeping the secret of her dad's infidelity. The fear she consumed after witnessing Brat's death.

When she closed her eyes, Bubbles saw it. The scene from the lake on Halloween. A lifeless body. A young blonde taken way too soon.

But it was not Brat.

It was her.

Bubbles felt her breath quicken. A frost so cold that it burned took control of her lungs.

The misery was the one in the driver's seat. It always has been. The whispers, the frost, and the ice in her chest. _It was all of her misery_. It was her suppressing anything that did not feel like joy.

It was what was overpowering her heart.

 _Bubbles needed a release._

She needed to feel warm. She needed something other than the numbness and misery flooding her system.

Bubbles opened her car door, taking in the fresh air around her. She hoped the dry heat of the ongoing heatwave would hit her finally. Bubbles would do anything to be able to sweat and get overheated again.

But it did not.

All she felt was coldness.

She walked out to the flat land beside the road. Her knees fell into the sand, scraping her tan skin but she could not feel it—all it did was add to her numbness. Her hands clawed at the sand. The tiny morsels were a waterfall flowing through the spaces in between her fingers.

Bubbles let out the burning in her lungs. An ear-piercing scream of frustration escaped her lips. Her tears were released from her eyes but were stuck to the points of her cheekbones.

The frost was spreading out of her hands and onto the ground she was touching. A baby blue energy surrounded her body. Icy wind swept by her feet, dancing around her in a vicious pace. Dark clouds swirled over head. Light flakes of snow fell to the ground. A calm, beautiful sight before the true storm began.

 _Bubbles needed a release._

The snow began to pick up, flurrying around her body. The ice began to spread, crystallizing on the ground. The short but sharp shards flowered outward from her, encapsulating around Bubbles with new layers of the jagged edges growing forward.

Her emotions were free. Free to be as destructive and reckless as they wanted to be. The coldness had a hold on her and there were no going back.

She had finally done what her misery wanted.

For her to succumb to the coldness. To feel nothing as she unleashed the true power from within her.

To make the rest of the world become as frostbitten and miserable as she was.

* * *

 _November 18th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

"Do you ever think about what could have been?"

Blossom glanced up from the notes she was reading, sharing a puzzled look at the blond across from her. They were at Brick's, using his dining room table to study. For Blossom, it was for her final exams at the community college—even though she knew it was particularly useless to take the tests at this point, it was a realm of normalcy she craved to ease her mind—and for Boomer, he was looking over Professor Utonium's translated journal in which Blossom had handed over to him now.

"What do you mean?"

"Like what our lives would be like if we never went to the lake that night. If we never got our powers or Him's attention," he explained. "How different our relationships may be. I just wonder if we would be completely different people or not. If we're better off—"

Before Boomer could finish his thought, Blossom's phone began to ring. She answered it immediately after reading the caller ID in which informed her it was Brick.

"Hey, how is—"

" _Blossom, are you by a window?_ "

Blossom knitted her eyebrows together, standing up. "No, I'm not. Why?"

Boomer sent her a confused look as she made her way over to the window in the living room.

" _Because I'm pretty sure there's not suppose to be a snowstorm developing over Citiesville's city limits right now."_

Blossom pulled back the curtain covering the window, peering out towards the growing darkness reflecting across her rose-colored eyes. To a churning cell of heavy gray clouds in the distance.

"Holy shit!" Boomer exclaimed from the dining room table. His mouth wide open as he rushed over to Blossom's side. "What is that?"

The redhead ignored his question, opting to speak to her boyfriend. "Do you think—"

" _That it's Bubbles? Without a doubt_ ," he answered, producing Blossom's heart to make a free fall to her stomach. " _I vaguely remember something similar to this from her in another timeline_."

It had to be her emotions, Blossom determined. She was losing control and becoming reckless. Just as Brick had told them what could happen.

"Brick, you need to meet Boomer and I at the center of the storm, okay?"

He hesitated for a moment before giving his answer. " _Alright_ ," he agreed, adding a, " _Please drive safe_ ," before hanging up.

"Blossom, what the hell is going on?" Boomer questioned, gripping at his blond roots as his ocean blue eyes were robbed of light from the storm brewing miles away.

Blossom shoved her phone in the pocket of her jean shorts, turning to Boomer. "Get your car keys. Bubbles is in trouble."

* * *

"Do you really think we should be driving in this weather?" Boomer inquired with panic in each word.

His one hand clutched onto his seat-belt for dear life, while his other hand held onto his car's ceiling handle with a firm grip. A black hoodie Blossom took from Brick's closet in the hurry of leaving his home hugged Boomer's body, providing him a small amount of protection to the chill phasing its way into his _Prius_. Ocean blue eyes stared out the windshield bug-eyed at the lack of ability to make out anything but the flurry of snow whipping by them. The sound of his windshield wipers echoed loudly as they worked overtime to remove what they could of the snow.

By how he was behaving, it would seem as if Blossom was speeding to reach Bubbles but the redhead was actually going about twenty miles per hour.

She moved his driver seat to be closer to the steering wheel. Her eyes were glued to the limited amount of the road she could see. The jean shorts she originally wore were replaced by a pair of gray sweatpants she took during raiding Brick's closet for Boomer. An olive green sweatshirt was also taken for her to wear.

"No, we shouldn't," Blossom stated calmly, to which earned a look from Boomer that was anything but calm. "But I've driven my drunk ex during a snowstorm last New Year's. So I, _at least_ , know what I'm doing."

"But this isn't _just_ a snowstorm, Bloss!" Boomer expressed with worry. "This," he gestured out the window but it went unnoticed due to Blossom's hyper-focus on the barely visible road. His stomach churned as he was fighting through a spell of fear-fueled hiccups. " _This_ is caused by Bubbles," his voice cracked at little at the mention of the blonde. "How are we supposed to stop this?"

"I don't know," Blossom murmured after a beat. The doubts she carried over by her recent decision-making poured out through her rose-colored eyes.

Boomer opened his mouth to reply but Blossom had brought the car to a slow stop when she spotted a familiar shade of red through the flurry of snow. Their faces were drawn to a blaze of flickering flames.

A thin dome of fire was about twenty feet away from the road, attempting to contain the real force of Bubbles' powers. The ice shards were inching their way closer to the road—to civilization. The sharp ends in which were not melted by the flames were poking through the dome, weakening the fire it fought against.

Blossom parked the car in the middle of the road, stripping the ignition of the keys and ejecting her seat-belt.

"Brick!" Blossom shouted as she exited the car, making a dash for the other redhead.

Boomer did the same, following a few steps behind her. His forearm was held up against his forehead to block the incoming snow from getting into his eyes. A shiver rippled through his body as his jaw chattered involuntarily.

He wished Brick possessed much warmer clothing in his closet but it should have been predicted since snowstorms were not an annual occurrence for them in southern Arizona.

When they made it to Brick, he appeared to be struggling. Despite the icy wind and downpour of snow, sweat coated his forehead. His feet were planted solidly into the ground, having melted away the foot of snow that once collected where he stood. His body temperature prevented him from fully feeling the frigid weather happening around them. Snow that made contact with his skin would melt immediately, sizzling out with a short lifespan. His hands were held out, bright flames erupting from the palms of both of his hands as the fire streamed out of him continuously like he was a flamethrower and into the dome to spread around. An addition in which did not seem to be helping much against the unbreakable ice penetrating through it.

The radiating warmth of the embers of the dome and Brick's hands did help relieve both Blossom and Boomer from feeling the wind chill phasing through them.

"Are you okay?" Blossom asked. Her obvious concern for him reflected off of her face.

Brick's chest moved in a heavy pace. A few strands of his scarlet waves hung in his face, drenched from his perspiration. The navy blue tee-shirt he wore clung to his skin due to the sweat sticking to the cotton fabric.

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired," he reassured despite knowing his energy was quickly depleting. Ruby-colored eyes illuminated by the fire went to her, softening for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Blossom nodded once. Her hand went to gently move a strand of hair from getting in his eyes. "I will be, once we figure out how to help Bubbles."

Boomer squinted, trying to look through the flames. "Where is she?"

"She's at the center of all of this," Brick explained with heavy breaths in between. He drifted his focus off of the flames emitting out of his hands and over to Boomer briefly, opening his mouth to continue talking but Brick made a double take. His eyes narrowed at the blond. "Are you wearing my jacket?" He accused, baffled by the entire idea.

Boomer widened his eyes, quickly throwing his hands in Blossom's direction. "Um, she's literally wearing your clothes too," Boomer pointed out in his defense.

Brick darted his eyes back to Blossom, finding Boomer was, _indeed_ , correct. A defeated sigh escaped his lips. "I'm not getting those back, am I?" Brick questioned towards his girlfriend.

"Uhhhhh," Blossom flashed a sheepishly grin. "I think that's a discussion for another time." Her hand went to the fire dome in front of them. "You know, one where Bubbles is okay and all."

" _Right_ ," Brick deadpanned, shaking his head. "Well like I was saying before, Bubbles is in the center of this. We could try getting to her but the ice wouldn't stop growing since it apparently is too strong to melt at the pace I'm going at. And the wind chill seems more stronger the closer you get to her—which, luckily I'm keeping the most of it contained for now."

Boomer nodded, stroking the length of his chin while in thought. "Do we have any clues as to why this is happening?"

"Her emotions," Blossom answered without any doubts, glancing over to Boomer. "She's been repressing so much. It must be catching up to her now."

"And it's about to freeze the entire state of Arizona," Brick inputted before letting out a wincing grunt. The fire discharging from his hands briefly stalled for a second before continuing to go on. The flames were beginning to die out and he could feel himself becoming weaker along with them. For the first time since attaining his powers, Brick was able to feel a chilling breeze move through him. "Please tell me there's a plan to solve this."

Blossom pursed her lips, crossing her arms as Boomer rubbed the back of his neck. The redhead angled her head in Boomer's direction. Her powers were practically useless and any water Boomer could control would freeze up within a second of being used. They were left with the options of using Brick's waning power or solving this with only their wits.

"Maybe we could reason with her to stop?" She proposed with a heavy level of skepticism.

Boomer shook his head, "Not when she's in a state like this. I know when I'm having a panic attack, reason doesn't exist to me. We have to find a way to get her attention and then calm her down first."

"And how are we supposed to do that?"

Boomer mulled through his brain for an answer. In the years he has known Bubbles, emotional distress was not something he has seen her properly experience. She always had a smile to share and a heart way too big for the world. If he had to use one word, joy was what he would use to define her.

Trying to figure out what would work for her was nearly impossible. Each person had a different way to cope and calm themselves down. Him, of all people, should know that. When Boomer had his panic attacks—

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head.

Boomer pulled out his phone from his pocket. His finger typed on the screen numbly as the cold was beginning to reach him again with the strength of Brick's fire decreasing.

"Here." Boomer handed over his phone to Blossom. His jaw shaking as he spoke to her, "Go to my car, turn on the aux and turn up the volume to the highest it can go."

Blossom arched an eyebrow, debating within herself whether to let her curiosity over his idea influence her to ask why before nodding and making her way to his car.

"Can you thin the fire a little more?" Boomer questioned to Brick.

"It's already getting there, Boom," Brick replied through his teeth as he struggled to keep the dome stable any longer. The flames from his hands grew noticeable dimmer as he followed Boomer's suggestion. "A few more minutes and we'll probably be frozen alive. So you better hope what you got works."

Boomer blinked through the terrifying scenario Brick presented. He let himself take in deep breaths, watching the flames become more sheer. The icy wind poured out of the dome viciously, chilling his entire body in an instant. His ocean blue eyes squinted, faintly making out Bubbles' curls twirling up with the wind. A baby blue aura radiated around her hunched over body like bright flames—a sight in which reminded him of when Buttercup tried to kill Butch on Halloween. The ice underneath her continued to crackle and spread.

It broke Boomer's heart to see her in such a state.

"I got it set up!" Blossom shouted over from Boomer's car.

"Play it!"

Boomer watched Bubbles with a pair of wishful eyes despite the aching in his heart. The beginning ruffles of a ukulele filled the rustling air; it was the introduction of the same song she sang to him that night on Princess' balcony.

The blond hoped it would share the same effect onto Bubbles as it did for him.

He waited for her to notice. To hear the lyrics and let herself become distracted enough for him to reason with her.

But there were no lyrics to be heard.

"Where's the singing?" Boomer whispered to himself. He turned to where Blossom stood by his car still, repeating the same question to her loudly. " _Where's the singing_?"

Blossom glanced down at his phone, "Um... this is the instrumental version!"

"Can you change it?" Boomer exclaimed back over to her through the flurry of snow and wind. His already red cheeks from the cold grew a deeper shade due to his embarrassment.

"I could… But your phone is literally frozen now!" She explained, lifting up his phone for him to see despite him being twenty feet away.

"God dammit," he groaned. His hands gripped at his scalp. "Um… shit, what are the lyrics?" He said to himself, gaining a look from an exhausted Brick. "Um, there's something about the blue bird and then, um…"

Boomer began singing along in his head, gathering the memory of the lyrics together. He snapped his fingers when he believed he had it down. Boomer opened his mouth to sing at the top of his lungs for Bubbles to be able to hear him.

"... _Someday, I wish upon a star! Wake up where the clouds are far behind me! Where trouble melts like lemon drops!_ " He sang loudly and off-key. His voice fell into cracks at some moments but Boomer did not care. Nor did he care he was practically screaming out the lyrics to a song in which had a completely mellow tempo.

He only cared about helping Bubbles

Bubbles who did not even know about her friends' presence around her.

The ice crackled under her as she wanted to cry. To feel any emotional relief from the misery pouring out of her body. Those tears, however, were frozen to her skin. Frost coated her arms and legs. She was sure the longer things went on, the sooner she would be encapsulated into the ice. To become physically trapped by the numbness the ice and misery has brought her.

Her lip trembled from the negative emotions expanding in her mind. There was no escape. There was no cure. She was overcame by the miserable. She was alone.

This was her end—

Bubbles slowly lifted her head up. Her vision becoming aligned with the dying embers of a fire surrounding her. Her hearing picking up on the amplified stringing of a ukulele and the off-key singing coming from Boomer, in which caught her attention.

"... _And dreams that you dare to! Oh why, oh why can't I?"_

She blinked through glaze over her eyes, letting it fade away for a moment.

 _He remembered_.

Boomer remembered her song. The song in which she could feel burn a flicker of warmth into her heart.

A song in which triggered her to breathe. To take in deep and calming breaths. To let go of her fears and think of rainbows Bubbles loved to imagine when she was younger.

Slowly, the flurry of snow began to calm. The wind-speed slowed down to a smooth breeze. The sharp icicles were at a stand still.

Yet, the dark clouds remained. The chilling air around them taunted at not being dismissed. The baby blue energy still coated her.

"... _Someday I wish upon a star! Wake up where the clouds are far behind me!"_

Bubbles blinked at him. Her throat sore and raw. Her chest was heavy with the ice having yet to leave her system.

"What… What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice stricken with pain.

Boomer and Brick exchanged a look, seeming to communicate silently. The redhead closed his eyes, letting the embers in the palms of his hands to die out as he also commanded the lingering flames of the fire surrounding Bubbles to disappear in a single thought. His hands went to his sides, meeting Boomer's eyes one more time. A tired breath escaped his lips.

"Are you sure?"

Boomer shifted his gaze onto Bubbles. His ocean blue eyes softened in an instant. There were no hiccups for him to fight. He knew this was what he needed to do. He knew he was equipped with the right amount of courage to do it.

"More than anything."

Brick nodded, "Okay."

With the redhead's approval, Boomer moved forward. He ventured towards the ice shards. His feet moved cautiously, trying not to slip on the slick surface; to also not stab his foot on the razor-edges of the lowly formed icicles.

"Bubs, we're here for you," he said gently to Bubbles as Boomer slowly made his way over to her. His heart was spilling out into his words, giving him the guidance on what to say without any other influences inside of him. "Because we're always going to be here for you."

Bubbles shook her head, unable to believe his words. The whispers— _the misery_ was holding her prisoner.

"No, you're not. You're just here to use me."

"We're not," Boomer assured, his voice breaking from the sorrow he carried from her thinking such a thing. "We're here because we care about you."

His foot crunched under a brittle shard of ice. The instruments of the song had faded away, leaving nothing but the sound of the white noise of the cold air. There was a ripple of wind growing in strength, alerting Boomer on he did not have much time left to get a grip on her.

"You don't have to do this," he pleaded desperately. "You—You don't have to punish yourself for feeling something. For having bad days. You should acknowledge what you feel, let yourself feel it, and then you can heal. You—You don't have to keep it all in. You don't have to pretend to be okay all the time. None of us are. But that doesn't change how we would treat you or how we feel about you, Bubbles."

Bubbles, little by little, let go of the ground. Her hands found a home on her thighs as she sat on her knees. Light blue eyes found themselves captivated by Boomer's presence. By the gentle steps he had made to get to her.

By how unafraid he was to be near her and the ice.

"We're your friends. We're going to be there for you no matter the good or bad. Whether we're fighting or not. Because," Boomer felt his eyes melt as he was merely five steps away from her. "Because I— _We_ love you, Bubbles," he confessed in a heavy breath.

Something about his word choice struck her with such a brute force. Her eyes grew wide. The frozen tears on her face defrosted, straining her cheeks wet.

"And that's never going to change."

Without any hesitation, Boomer found himself sinking to his knees in front of Bubbles, crunching the ice underneath him with his weight. Bubbles' lips were glossed with a faint blue-tint, quivered from the emotions wrecking her body. Their blues eyes watched each other, waiting for the other to say something but neither did.

Instead, Boomer moved his lanky arms and rested his hands on Bubbles' shoulders. He took in her frigid body temperature. His brain screamed at him to pull away from her as the coldness was numbing his hands. The tips of his fingers were the hue of an unnatural bright red. It felt like needles were being repeatedly pressed into the palms of his hands. A coldness so strong that it almost felt like it was burning his skin off.

Yet, he kept them there. An action in which alleviated the pain in her heart, re-directing it for her without showing any signs of remorse.

He flashed a gentle smile at her. The oceans in his eyes were clear with his intentions. With the want to prove the ice was nothing to be fearful of when they had each other.

Despite what his body told him, Boomer gradually pulled Bubbles into a hug.

The blonde was stiff under his hold. Her mind racing with thoughts on how he should not be touching her. How she was only a menace to him.

But something about being in his arms. To know he was not scared of what she could do. Or how what she _had_ already done, did not change his perception of her. The acknowledgement of how he was right; Her friends _did_ love her. It changed something in her. It thawed a layer of frost.

Her head buried into his chest, her arms finding a home around his waist. She held onto him as if she was scared of losing him; as if he was going to vanish right before her eyes and the warmth he was providing to her was all an illusion. Tears streamed down her face silently, flowing freely without becoming frozen for once.

It all seemed to melt away under his touch.

The ice shards slowly became puddles around them. As did the frost that once adorned her arms and legs. The snow and the heavy, dark clouds had lightened up. The baby blue aura radiating from her had gradually dimmed and disappeared. The frosty air was the only lasting effect of her emotions, lingering on until the sun was able to break through the gathered clouds once again.

This was what she needed. She had ran away from the truth. Bubbles had let the dark thoughts in her mind, _the misery_ , to control her. She had let herself believe love was not real.

Boomer had reminded her that love _did_ exist because her friends loved her. They have always loved her. Through thick and thin, they have been there for her unconditionally.

His words brought her back down to the ground. Away from the dark clouds in which she was losing sight of the horizon in. Before she nosedived into the worst of herself.

Her soul. Her chest. Her body. _Her heart_. It all seemed to be lifted from the layers of the frost.

However, a bit of it was still there.

The ice remained as a part of her, but now Bubbles had the warmth of her friends to keep her from becoming completely numb. To where she was beginning to feel like a human again.

The two did not break apart. The painful coldness Boomer had felt, coursed through him, fading away as Bubbles slowly let go of the frost in her. His smile remained, simply happy to know Bubbles was okay—or, at least, to know she was going to be okay. That Bubbles knew she was not alone anymore. That she never would be alone as long as he had any say in the matter.

In the distance, Brick and Blossom, who had returned to his side, watched the blondes continue to hug. The abnormal heat inside of Brick had returned as did some of his energy after getting a moment to catch his breath.

Brick scratched at the back of his neck, feeling awkward from witnessing such an intimate moment between them.

"Um… Should we interrupt that _or...?"_

Blossom pursed her lips in thought, tilting her head to a degree. Bubbles and Boomer did not seem like they were going to break apart anytime soon. And the small part of her that still silently rooted for the two of them, did not want to disturb such a moment.

"Let them be," she answered. "In the meantime..." Her hand reached for Brick's, meeting his eyes. Blossom arched an eyebrow mischievously. "...You wanna go make out in your truck for warmth?"

Brick kept a neutral face, nodding once.

"Yes."

* * *

Bubbles inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of warm vanilla beans from the candle burning on Brick's coffee table. Heat from the fireplace she sat on the ground by radiated greatly against her skin, giving her a pleasant flash of warmth.

Her eyes danced around the living room, taking in the familiar ambiance of Brick's home. The new cream throw on his couch was wrapped around her tightly. The plush fabric of the blanket was way cozier than she originally thought it would be.

She glanced over to the kitchen, finding Blossom by the sink, washing a few dishes. Brick stood by her, his back leaning against the counter, carrying on a private conversation with her. A small grin was displayed by him as he nodded along to something she had said. His ruby-colored eyes were subtlety gleaming at the sight of Blossom, fascinated by whatever she had to say or do. Eventually he pushed off from the counter, moving towards a part of the kitchen Bubbles was not able to see from where she sat. But she did watch as Brick leaned over, placing a hand on the small of Blossom's back, and planting a kiss against her temple before becoming removed from Bubbles' eyesight.

It was an action in which made Bubbles smile faintly. After what Blossom went through with Henry, it was delightful to see her have someone who appeared to adore and respect her. For her to find love after such a terrible and heart-wrecking experience the first time.

With that thought, Bubbles found her smile to falter. Images of Mike flooded her mind. The impact of what she had done, punched her in the gut.

 _She had broken up with him_. She loved him yet Bubbles had made the decision to break up with him.

Even if the whispers were not with her at the moment, the blonde did silently agree with parts of their reasoning to end things. If she was able to lose control once, Bubbles was afraid it could happen again. She was fine now but who knew what would happen in a week? They only had a limited time before the next reboot was to take place but Bubbles was fearful that she may become overrun by her emotions once more.

And if Blossom, Brick, and Boomer did end the time loop and Him, how were they supposed to be so sure their powers would be gone too? Would they have to live with them for the rest of their lives?

Bubbles felt a small growth of frost in her chest from the idea. From a fear she did not want to ever become a reality.

To prevent herself from letting the frost grow anymore, Bubbles looked around the room again to find something else to fill her thoughts. Her light blue eyes found themselves drawn to the other blond in the room.

Boomer had taken a spot on the ground like her. His body hunched over the coffee table in between them. His brow furrowed as he appeared to be drawing in a notebook of his'.

A small but grateful smile itched its way onto her lips. Bubbles never realized how much she appreciated Boomer before. He truly was one of the greatest friends she would ever have. Boomer was unapologetically compassionate but also, as Bubbles was realizing after today, he was quite commanding when he needed to be. She was used to Blossom controlling a room's attention or Butch and Buttercup overpowering one. _But Boomer_ …

He had somehow found himself able to possess a quiet confidence that Bubbles had not noticed before.

She thought back to the Halloween on Princess' balcony. To the millions of fears thrashing in the oceans of his eyes that night. Those fears had not ever been wiped away before; but today, Bubbles saw nothing but still waters. A calming pool in which had her melting into them...

"Here."

Bubbles blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and darting her eyes up to Brick who stood before her. An orange-colored coffee mug was being presented to her. A trail of steam floated up from the contents of the mug.

"I made you some hot chocolate to help you warm up," Brick added on. "Blossom also made me add mini marshmallows."

The blonde smiled in appreciation, taking the mug from his hold. "How thoughtful."

Brick's eyes seemed to shine for a moment, nodding to her comment. "Yeah, she is," he said before taking a seat on his couch.

Bubbles shook her head, arching an eyebrow, "I meant how thoughtful it was for _you_ to make me hot chocolate."

"Oh." Brick shrugged off her words. A brief flash of pink tinted his cheeks. "It's nothing."

Bubbles let out a giggle at his awkward nature. Her hands brought the mug to her lips, taking in a sip of the hot chocolate.

For weeks now, whenever Bubbles drank coffee at work, she felt no heat on her tongue. She could drink the liquid straight from the pot, at boiling temperatures, and would not have to worry about burning her tongue at all. At first, it was an interesting change but after the initial reaction, cold coffee quickly became unappealing.

When she took a sip of the hot chocolate, Bubbles expected the same results. Once the tip of tongue tasted the hot chocolate, it coiled back in mouth from the heat. A slight numbness came over her taste buds from being burned. An action she would have been annoyed by in the past but after weeks of not having any sense of warmth or heat from food or drinks, Bubbles was delighted to have a part of her tongue burnt.

It reminded her again of the frost not being the one in control anymore. That her emotions were in check at the moment. Her heart was stronger than her misery.

Blossom, who was done washing the dishes, found herself taking up a spot next to Brick on the couch. Her rose-colored eyes fell on Bubbles with a gentle stare.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" She asked in a soft tone.

Her question attracted the attention of Boomer, who looked up from his notebook and dropped his pencil immediately onto the table.

Bubbles felt her face fall. Her focus went to the tiny marshmallows melting in her drink.

"I don't know where to start," she confessed in a breath. "I—I guess it was always there. Like before we got our powers but it just got worse with the ice inside of me. And I believe I noticed it that night when we were at your house, Blossom, after you and Buttercup made up."

"Noticed what?" Blossom reiterated, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

" _The whispers_. The thoughts I would have never thought of but then I would feel insecure or the smallest thing would upset me and it would spiral out into this darkness I didn't know how to handle it. Each time I would get upset, a new layer of frost would grow in me and it kept on collecting until I was no longer able to feel anything but the ice in me," Bubbles explained, still unable to meet the three pairs of eyes drawn to her. "I think it all started with my parents and wanting to keep all of my feelings from the situation out of my mind. I didn't want to show that I was unhappy or become a burden to anyone because I wasn't my normal joyful self."

A long period of silence came over the room as the others let Bubbles' words sink in. A certain heaviness filled the air as Blossom struggled to vocalize what she wanted to say to Bubbles, while Brick patiently waited for Bubbles to continue with anything more she needed to say. From the need to ease the tension he felt, Boomer found himself humming a little.

"... _Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know..."_ Boomer found himself singing under his breath. His eyes went wide from realizing he actually sang out loud for the others to hear and not in his head. Boomer's hands flew up to signal his intention of no harm. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

"You're good," Bubbles chuckled, not realizing how much she needed a brief moment of humor anyways. "Elsa and I apparently have a lot in common. So I guess I should have taken the message of that movie more to heart."

"Which is why _Frozen_ is a god-tier _Disney_ movie despite what others say," Boomer grumbled, with Blossom shaking her head at him in amusement. Her and Bubbles both knew he was referring to Buttercup and her disdain for the film.

"...Is that the one with the snowman?" Brick inquired lowly with genuine uncertainty to Blossom but Bubbles picked up on it too.

"Yes," the redhead answered, and from her tone, Bubbles could tell she was smiling.

"Okay, so uh, Boomer has bad taste in movies," he whispered to her in a hasty manner before clearing his throat. Bubbles could feel him eyeing her again. "Do you want to continue, Bubbles?"

The blonde hesitated for a moment before nodding. Keeping everything in was what got her here in the first place. She needed to sort out her emotions out loud for once.

"...I, um, I think it got worse after finding out about Ms. Bellum." Blossom winced a little at her mother's name. Her mind was instantly taken back to the last time the redhead interacted with her. "But I still felt in control of myself and… And then there was Halloween…" Bubbles faltered. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. "After that I felt everything shut down. The ice became too unbearable and I wasn't willing to resist it anymore. So I welcomed the coldness. The negative emotions weighing me down. The numbness I wanted to feel. The misery controlling me. _All of it_. I just," she inhaled sharply and exhaled it out in a shaky breath. "I just felt so defeated and I didn't have much fight in me anymore."

Her confession had left Boomer and Blossom a bit speechless. They had both known Bubbles was going through something. That she was icing them out but neither knew the true extent of what she was dealing with. An inescapable guilt swallowed the two whole and spared them no mercy.

Brick, however, was not unfazed by her words. With his elbow propped up on the armrest of his couch and his chin in the palm of his hand, he nodded along to Bubbles, appearing as if he was working his way through a mental check.

"I know how you feel," Brick revealed in a calming manner after a moment. "The hopelessness towards life; your mind clinging onto the slightest unpleasantry; the acknowledgement towards how you should escape the void you've been sucked into, but instead, you would rather stay put because you're just exhausted from everything else already."

Bubbles gradually tore her eyes away from the mug in her hand, meeting Brick's eyes. A sleeve of the woolly sweater she wore went to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

"Yeah… That's what it's been like for awhile now," she murmured. "How do… How…"

She watched as Brick swallowed harshly, debating within himself before sighing loudly. He moved his unreadable gaze to the coffee table, scratching at the back of his neck. A heavy level of discomfort radiated into the air from him.

"That's what it's like to be depressed, Bubbles."

Her eyes fell to the floor. A shutter of coldness went through her. Her stomach churned greatly from his words

 _Depressed_?

She did not want the association with the word. She did not want to admit to the possibility of him being right. She did not want to admit to herself on being in such a head-space.

Bubbles did not want to be honest with herself.

But she had to realize this was what got her to lose control in the first place. From ignoring the signs that Bubbles was now acknowledging were there the entire time since she found out about her dad's affair. She made such a valiant effort to keep a happy front. To be the one to take care of her friends and mom, to where Bubbles failed to take care of herself.

She failed to acknowledge her feelings. Instead she smothered them over with her fake happiness. She punished herself for feeling anything that was not in the realm of or on the broad spectrum of happiness. Bubbles had refused to let herself to feel. The most human thing she could do and Bubbles had turned it off.

This was how the misery was able to grow in her. Every time she rejected her negative thoughts and emotions, it converted itself into the frost. She lost control because Bubbles was too afraid to admit what was truly going onto inside of herself.

There was no way to instantly have the sadness in her disappear. Not when she has not let herself cope healthily. Not when she did not understand each aspect of it. Not when she has yet to examine the gaping wounds she has left untreated.

But the first step she could take was to acknowledge it. To acknowledge she was going through a period in her life where she has found herself to be depressed. To acknowledge she was not alone as she had led herself to believe. To acknowledge what she felt was not something to ignore, fear, or punish herself over anymore. To acknowledge the unconditional love she had to help herself heal and grow better.

"Yeah… maybe so," she said quietly. Bubbles found herself strong enough to look up to her friends once again. Her light blue eyes held in her heavy tears, shifting between the three of them with raw anguish. Her voice breaking into pieces with her words. "But I'm going to be okay… _Right_?"

Blossom pursed her lips. Her hand had found a way onto Brick's knee, where her thumb rubbed on the dark fabric of his pants in a soothing manner. Rose-colored eyes seemed conflicted on what to respond with.

"Yeah, you will," Boomer answered after a beat in a delicate way. He looked up to Blossom and Brick before aligning his vision on Bubbles. " _We all will be_. We, uh, just have to get through the hiccups of life."

There was a hint of uncertainty in his tone but for some reason that happened to resonate more with Bubbles. It made his words appear more genuine. It was not a reassurance simply to make her feel better, but him trying to be optimistic and expressing how he truly did want to believe things would get better despite whatever doubts or fears he may have.

It was exactly what she needed to hear in reply to her question.

A weak smile framed her lips, "Hiccups, huh?"

Boomer nodded, returning her smile in a bashful manner. His cheeks rising in a noticeable heat, "Yeah. And you, um, have us to help you with them. Like I said, you're not alone. You never will be alone, Bubbles."

"Yeah… I'm starting to realize that again," Bubbles admitted softly. Her cheeks wanted to be flushed with warmth but were not able to due to her body temperature. "And… I'm sorry for icing all of you out. I–I didn't want to be another thing for everyone to worry about with everything going on. I wasn't used to letting you guys know about what I'm going through, and that's my own fault for doing so."

"Bubbles, you don't have to blame yourself," Blossom assured. "We've all have made mistakes and have been all over the place with our relationships lately. I know I, for one, could have made more of an effort to be there for you after Brat. But after the conversation we had at the Citiesville airport—"

"I get it," Bubbles nodded with understanding.

After being called out by Buttercup over her intentions when inserting herself into others' lives and problems, Bubbles could see why Blossom would be hesitant to reach out. Not to mention, Bubbles has not been the nicest or easiest person to talk to over the past couple of weeks.

"But I should have been more open with you guys," the blonde continued, finding her attention dancing between Blossom and Boomer in particular. "You've been my best friends since I was five but I was so terrified of telling you about how upset I was. And then all I wanted was to not be me anymore. I tried to focus on things that made me happy but in time, that list got shorter and shorter. Soon enough, the only time I could feel the slightest bit of happiness for awhile now was when I was with—" Bubbles paused abruptly. A chilling wave jolted through her body. Her fingertips grew a slight frost underneath them once again, reactivating her tiresome habit. "Was when I was with Mike," she admitted in a whisper.

Brick's eyes went to Boomer, waiting for a reaction from him but Brick was relieved to see Boomer had kept up a neutral expression at the mention of Mike. He was pleased to see Boomer had taken his advice to heart and was not going to drown himself into his crush for Bubbles anymore.

Blossom's eyes were full of sympathy for a moment before her eyebrow arched upward with a thought. "Bubs, you were coming _from_ Citiesville," she acknowledged cautiously. Bubbles nodded slowly to confirm. "Did—Did you go and see Mike?"

Bubbles' glanced up at the ceiling, hoping to stop the water in her eyes from falling. "I did… and I broke up with him."

The blonde failed to see Boomer's mouth go wide from her confession. Nor the wide-eyed gaze Brick held. But both had quickly recovered from their initial shock, keeping up a neutral expression respectively afterward.

"And that's what kick-started today," Blossom connected quietly

"Yeah… _It was_ … I–I didn't want to drag him down. We have such a limited time left and–and maybe the breakup was because of my fears and what I've become, I don't know…" Bubbles screwed her eyes shut for a moment. "I just know I can't be in a relationship with him right now. It shouldn't be my priority. And–And I shouldn't depend on him to be my happiness. I need time to work on myself." A heavy breath escaped her lips. "But we don't necessarily have any time for me to do such…"

Brick cleared his throat, capturing Bubbles' attention. "Well, time isn't necessarily on our side but we are trying to fix things." His mouth twitched upward in an uncertain manner, questioning on whether to portray a sense of hope or not to Bubbles. "So there's a chance Boomer is right. You will be okay." His ruby-colored eyes went to Boomer, "We just need to finalize a few things in Boom's plan."

Bubbles blinked in response. Boomer was coming up with a plan? Since when did Boomer and Blossom trade places?

Ocean blue eyes darted to Blossom for a brief second, " _Yeah_. There are somethings I still want to rationalize all the way through." His gaze went to Bubbles, continuing, "But as of now, I have a pretty solid idea on how to solve our Him problem."

Bubbles arched an eyebrow. How could Boomer want to continue? Just five days ago he was complaining to her about Blossom's determination.

Now he was the one coming up with a plan?

He was attempting to move passed his fears, Bubbles recognized. It explained why he seemed calmer. Why he was not afraid of her ice. Why he was the one who took the steps to her, and not Blossom or Brick.

Boomer was taking charge and facing his fears.

He was becoming a better version of himself. One who was not going to let his doubts stir him into submission.

It took Bubbles by awe. It made her take a step back and re-evaluate her decision. A decision she, now, understood was influenced by her own misery. If her friends could be hopeful; if they could move forward despite their hesitations and fears, then why could she not?

They were there for her today. She wanted to be there for them. If the world was going to end soon, Bubbles was beginning to realize she would rather be standing right by them than cowering away. Her heart knew what she needed to do.

"I… I want in," Bubbles announced with a small voice.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows, "But you and Buttercup made a pact."

"I know," the blonde nodded solemnly. Her eyes went to the other blond in the room. "But so did Boomer. And I think we both have realized that was a mistake to make. I want to be with you guys. I want to work together. I want to make the world better as a group because that's how we've always done it."

Blossom seemed a bit paralyzed by Bubbles' decision, glancing down at Boomer with a fog of thoughts in her eyes. Boomer did not notice, however. Instead, a dazzling smile overcame Boomer. His ocean blue eyes shined eagerly.

"Well, I think I can say for the three of us," he gestured to Blossom and Brick on the couch. "Welcome back into the fold, Bubs."


	15. The Current

**Author's Notes: It's the two year anniversary of this story and I thought what better way to celebrate than by posting a new chapter? So please enjoy, thank you for reading and let me know what you think in a review!**

* * *

 _September 20th_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Fifteen years ago..._

He did not understand why others could be so mean. Ever since starting Kindergarten a month ago, Boomer has been the prey of taunting from a group of classmates. Three of them—their names being Kenny, Dom, and Jacob—would go out of their way to find him during recess and spend it picking on Boomer. From mocking how he cried during the first week of school due to being separated from his dads to how Boomer would rather spend nap time coloring than sleeping, they spared no reason to pinpoint something to make Boomer seem different from them. They went with any reason granting their want to tease him without any moral questioning—as far as moral questioning could go for a bunch of five-year-olds.

Boomer had a grasp on how what they were doing was not okay. How they made him feel, was not okay. But every recess, Boomer let it happen. He was paralyzed by their words and his inability to speak up to a teacher about it. It was not like he did not want to; it was more so, Boomer could never let the words climb their way out of his throat. The worries of what may happen or how the other boys would react, frightened him. Worst, what if his teacher simply dismissed it as harmless teasing among boys—Ms. Keane seemed incredibly nice but she also preached about the importance of friendship and mending any conflict in a kind way multiple times of the day.

Boomer wished he could be like his other classmates. To have someone to play with and not be alone all the time. The only time his classmates did talk to him, was the three who were antagonizing him. He guessed Kenny, Dom, and Jacob had a point. _Boomer was different_. Maybe that was why he has not made a friend.

Maybe that was why he might never be able to make a friend.

Today was different though. Kenny was the first to approach him and make some snide remarks to make fun of his lunch—he had turkey roll ups but it was apparently weird Boomer did not eat bread with it—and then Dom and Jacob started to ask him questions Boomer did not want to answer.

He sat on the grass of the playground, head in his hands, trying to ignore the jabs made by his classmates standing in a semi-circle over him. Others ran around them playing a game of tag, giggling and screaming as they usually did on any given day. Seemingly oblivious to him and his inability to go a school day without being picked on.

"So why do you have two dads?" Dom questioned in a sneer. A concept he was not able to grasp like most of Boomer's classmates.

If anyone asked Boomer before starting Kindergarten, he would have thought having a mom _and_ one dad was much more stranger than having two dads. He has quickly become aware of how his situation was actually the rare case than what he originally thought.

"Yeah, where's your mommy?" Jacob added.

Boomer was not quite sure where she was. His dads' have told him very little about her and he did get a card from her on his last birthday. But other than that, Boomer spent most of his time imagining what she looked like more than asking where she was and why she was not there.

"I bet she didn't want him," Dom laughed to Jacob and Kenny. "He was probably too much of a wimp and a weirdo for her."

"He's probably sick too," Kenny injected. "My pops says his two dads are sick. I bet they gave him whatever they have."

"Ewwww," Jacob grimaced before lightly kicking Boomer's legs to get his attention. Boomer did not bother, keeping his head down and focusing on the blades of grass in between his legs. "Are you sick, Boomer? Is that why you cry like a baby? Cause you're sick?"

"Sick just like his dads," Kenny said, kicking Boomer's leg with a little more force than Jacob. "Aren't you going to say anything? Or are you going to just wait to cry to your _dads_ later?"

"Please stop kicking me," Boomer muttered but was not heard from the three's mocking laughter. He held back the water in his eyes. Boomer was not going to cry in front of them again. Yet, it was so hard to keep himself from doing such in the moment.

"Hey, stop kicking him!"

Boomer lifted his head, his ocean blue eyes were so wide to find someone sticking up for him.

It was a boy from the class next to Ms. Keane's. They shared a connecting door to their respective classrooms, which often allowed them to share nap time and recess together.

He had dark, unruly curls and striking green eyes. It was a common mistake by some teachers to believe he was actually a first grader due to being a few inches taller than the average kindergartner—on a good day, he could even pass as a shorter second grader.

"Don't tell us what to do," Kenny refuted back, kicking at Boomer again in spite.

Boomer watched in fear as the green-eyed boy went to push Kenny.

"I said to stop kicking him," the stranger said in a protective manner. "So stop already."

"And what are you going to do? Tell on us?" Dom laughed mockingly.

"Yeah, it's not like he doesn't deserve it. He has two dads," Jacob pointed out, lifting up two of his fingers. "He's a weirdo."

"So?" The stranger scoffed. "I only have my dad and he's great. Having two of him sounds awesome."

"You're going to get sick," Kenny objected. "Having two dads makes you sick."

"Then I can stay home all day and miss school," the stranger argued with a shrug of his shoulder. "My dad lets me eat a bunch of cookies when I'm sick. Being sick doesn't sound so bad to me."

"You're just a weirdo like him!" Jacob exclaimed, moving to attempt to push the stranger. Jacob barely moved the other boy's shoulders.

The stranger stepped closer to Jacob, his eyes were harsh to all three of the boys. His couple of inches over them was being used to his advantage.

"Yeah, I am. I'm a weirdo too. I'm also a weirdo who can stick crayons up your noses during nap time if you say anything to me or him ever again," the stranger threatened. He grinned at the collective frightened faces the three shared. " _Got it_?"

Kenny, Dom, and Jacob did not say a word to him. Instead, they took off in lightning speed, running to the other side of the playground away from him.

The stranger shook his head, chuckling a little. He then glanced down at Boomer, who diverted his in-awe gaze away from the stranger's green eyes. This random person had scared off the single cause of all of Boomer's troubles for the past month in the matter of minutes. Boomer was taken aback by the stranger's kindness. From wishing he had the courage to do the same thing; that Boomer had been able to do it weeks ago.

Humiliation crept into his system as Boomer felt bad for having someone else stick up for him. For a random stranger to be the one to defend Boomer and not Boomer to be the one to do it for himself. To have caused such a situation to force a stranger to say something where it could only cause trouble for the green-eyed boy standing before him.

"Are you okay?" The stranger asked, sticking out his hand in offer to help Boomer stand up.

Boomer took it, rising to his feet and wiping off the dirt of the ground from the back of his shorts. "Yeah," he muttered meekly. "Thank you…"

Boomer took a step away from the stranger, feeling he would not want anything more to do with Boomer. After the trouble he caused, Boomer felt it was the least he could do.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

Boomer's eyebrows moved up in shock. His index finger pointed at his chest. " _Me_?" The stranger nodded, grinning with amusement at Boomer's confusion. " _Oh_. Um, it's, uh... My name is Boomer."

"Boomer?" A wide grin spread across his face. "You mean like _Boom,"_ he repeated, followed by loud explosion noises that were equivalent to ones heard in a action-packed Hollywood blockbuster.

Boomer could not help but to laugh a little, nodding. "Yeah. Just like that."

"That's so cool," the stranger admired. He pointed a thumb at himself. "I'm Butch, by the way." His green eyes shifted off towards the playground near them. His thumb went over to the direction of the monkey bars. "I know how to hang upside down on the monkey bars. Want me to show you how, Boom?"

Boomer blinked at Butch. He wanted to play with Boomer? It was the first time Boomer was asked to do such by anyone.

For a moment, Boomer felt his chest loosen. A wave of calm and, maybe, happiness came over him. A broad, real smile was displayed by Boomer. There was no way Boomer was going to hide his excitement.

Maybe he was capable of making friends after all.

"Yes! That sounds awesome!"

* * *

 _November 23rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day..._

" _Are you sure_?"

Blossom pursed her lips, nodding along to Boomer's question. They were in Brick's living room, as of usual lately, ironing out the details of phase two of his plan to beat Him for the millionth time it seemed.

"I know it's risky and nothing is a given, but I think this is the way we should go about it."

"But Bloss, I—"

Before Boomer could finish his sentence, the front door to Brick's home opened. Bubbles, followed by Brick, entered the space. Boomer's eyes went to Blossom, coming to a mutual decision. They were going to have to drop this topic for at least now.

"Guess who doesn't have any car damage after all?" Bubbles asked rhetorically with a certain bounce to her step.

After the snowstorm, Brick had taken the time to make sure the weather had no costly effects to their respective vehicles. He did not get much time the day before to check out Bubbles' car but Brick had said something about her engine in a string of mechanic jargon she did not understand; leaving Bubbles a bit worried about what he might find today.

Thankfully, she had been worrying for nothing.

Boomer could not help but returned the smile she had been conveying. It had been a few days since she lost control of her powers and Bubbles has seemed to be taking things in stride. When she decided to rejoin them, Boomer was slightly skeptical about it. He thought with everything, it may have been too much for her and she would have changed her mind—and Boomer would have easily understood if she had made such a decision. Yet, Bubbles has not missed a day of coming to Brick's home after a long shift at Otto's to get the latest update on anything they were doing.

Bubbles has also been more proactive. Laughing more and participating in conversations she would have sat out of a month ago. There were moments where Bubbles did grow quiet. Where she picked at the frost in her nails and needed to take a few minutes to herself.

It was all in the process of trying to get better, Boomer recognized. He had moments where he was like her too. Where his stomach ached painfully and his mind could not grasp why Boomer was digging himself deeper into the pressures of defeating Him. Occasionally, when he was left with just his mind, Boomer thought about quitting. Of how he was not fit to be a leader.

It was his process of trying to be better. To let those thoughts come but to also let them go. Boomer could not let them weigh him down...

"That's great, Bubs," Blossom responded. Boomer could tell Blossom was also happy to have Bubbles back for the past few days.

Bubbles had gone to grab a water bottle from Brick's fridge before taking a seat at his dining table. She tapped on the screen of her phone that Bubbles had left on the table upon arriving, frowning at whatever she saw before pushing it away from her.

She opened the water bottle, taking a sip before closing it and tilting her head to an angle. "So what's the plan for today?"

Boomer glanced over to Blossom and Brick—Brick had slipped into the space beside Blossom on the couch, their hands intertwined and laying on Blossom's thigh—looking for an answer to Bubbles' question.

"I decided to take a half day, so I don't have to go back to the shop this afternoon," Brick revealed casually.

"What time is it?"

Bubbles tapped on her phone once again, reading the time. "Twelve-fifty."

Boomer shifted in his seat, facing Blossom. "Do you think we could—"

"We do have the afternoon free," she acknowledged, knowing what he was going to suggest without Boomer needing to finish his sentence. "And I know she'll be there at this time."

"Then we should go," Boomer decided.

"Go where?" Bubbles questioned.

"There's some kinks we need to fix before carrying out our plan—"

"What is our plan, anyways?" Bubbles asked, her eyebrows knitted together. "I know it's a work in progress but…"

"No, you're right. You should know," Boomer agreed.

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Talking about his plan out loud was a topic in which made him greatly self-conscious. Even if the only person he has told it to was Blossom—and she was quite a fan of it too. Boomer happened to be a bit more wary of what Brick had to say than Bubbles since Brick has been a bit more skeptical of all the plans and ideas they have worked through in the past.

"There's two parts of it," Boomer started, drifting his eyes over to Brick for a few seconds before continuing. "The first part of the plan, in short, is the old plan." He tried his best to ignore the confused looks Brick and Bubbles were both giving him at the moment.

"You mean the old plan that didn't work out?" Brick pointed out flatly.

"Yes and no," Boomer answered. "The old plan was good based on the primary premise of it, which was to get Blossom to the center of the lake. The main problem—other than how fast it went sideways because of factors we didn't predict would intervene—was that we didn't know about the underwater bunker being located in the center of the lake. But now we do. And thanks to one of Blossom's visions, we know where the entrance to the bunker is."

"So the main goal, again, is to get Blossom to the center of the lake and get her to stop the time loop before we attempt to take down Him for good. Now, the main difference of my plan is we're, uh, not going to be subtle about attacking Him this time."

Brick blinked, appearing as if he did not believe what Boomer had said. His eyebrows furrowed together when it hit Brick completely that Boomer meant what he said. "Do you _want_ us to die?"

"No, Brick," Boomer defended in a quick and panicked manner. "It's all a matter of distracting Him." He tossed his eyes between Brick, Bubbles, and Blossom. His life felt like it depended on trying to convince them to join his plan as if they were not already on board to stop Him. "If we split up across town and simultaneously pick fights with Him individually, it's going to drive Him insane. Therefore, we may be able to get Him distracted enough to lose track of Blossom and allow her to make it to the center of the lake unnoticed and unharmed."

"Him has proven to be susceptible to being distracted," Blossom added, lifting her chin a little to look up at Brick. "Especially when you're involved. I've seen it in one of my visions. Him was too focused on fighting you than trying to locate me."

Brick did not say anything. He appeared to be in deep thought, attempting to sort out the parts of the plan he liked and disliked.

"It sounds promising," Bubbles weighted in. "Dangerous and risky, but promising."

Boomer grinned at her response and Brick's lack of one—Hey, it meant that it was not a completely _awful_ idea if Brick did not have any outright objections to it.

"There's just this tricky thing we need to do in order to move our chess pieces in the correct place," Boomer said sheepishly. "We can't exactly fight Him without going noticed and I've seen plenty of superhero movies to know there is always property damaged when fighting is involved. Townsville is obviously occupied by those living there and we can't risk them witnessing us using our powers or getting hurt. So this is where things get far-fetched—"

"Right, cause our fates laying in the balance of us fighting an inter-dimensional demon isn't far-fetched enough," Brick inputted sarcastically with an eye roll.

" _Right_ ," Boomer elongated, blinking at Brick in return before focusing back on explaining his plan. "Well, what I was trying to say is that we need someone with enough power to initiate a false need for a town wide evacuation." Boomer could hear Brick grumble under his breath, knowing _exactly_ who Boomer was implying they needed to talk to. Bubbles, on the other hand, appeared as if she had seen a ghost. "Which is why we need to make a quick visit to Phoenix. Like, um, _right now_."

* * *

 _November 23rd_

 _Phoenix, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

Blossom motioned over to the few leather chairs that sat by her mother's office door for Boomer, Bubbles, and Brick to take up while she spoke to the receptionist. The bright Arizona sun shined through the floor to ceiling windows facing them. The receptionist sat behind a circular desk, managing her time between assisting and answering the phone for the five political advisers in the shared office space, including Ms. Bellum. The state flag of Arizona was proudly displayed in a plexiglass frame over the seating area they occupied for the moment. The rest of the office was decorated with sleek cream colored walls and dark gray tiled flooring. It was definitely more modern than anything one could found in Townsville.

"Ah, Blossom, I haven't seen you in awhile," a receptionist—who Boomer could only determine was in her late twenties—greeted. She smiled brightly at Blossom before tapping on her computer's keyboard in a furious pace. "I'm assuming you're here for Sara."

"Yes," Blossom answered in a short manner. "She's not in a meeting, correct?"

"Nope, you caught her at just the right time," the receptionist responded. "I'll just let her know she has a visitor and you can go right in."

"Okay. Thank you, Vanessa."

"Is it okay if I stay out here?" Bubbles asked timidly as Boomer and Brick both stood from their chairs. "I don't think I would be able to face your mom after—"

"It's okay, Bubs," Blossom assured with a gentle smile.

"Thank you."

"Are you going to be okay out here by yourself?" Boomer asked in concern.

"Yeah. I think I'm just going to listen to music while I wait."

" _Over the rainbow?_ " Boomer suggested with a grin as if it was an inside joke between them.

"Maybe so," Bubbles beamed, her blue eyes lighting up from his remembrance once again.

"Boom." Boomer removed eyes from Bubbles, giving their attention to Brick, who was giving him an unreadable look. "Let's get this over with."

Boomer nodded, "Right, right…"

He followed Blossom and Brick into Ms. Bellum's office, taking in how the modern decor from the lobby had flowed easily into her office too. Her sleek white walls were covered in framed newspaper articles detailing significant moments in her career, certificates, and a copy of her college degree. A yellow-potted cactus was shoved into a corner by the wall of windows similar to the one in the lobby. Two red chairs sat in front of the large oak desk Ms. Bellum sat behind. The daylight illuminated the entire space but there was nothing warm about being in her office.

In fact, Boomer felt goosebumps erupt across his skin when standing before Ms. Bellum—but that may be because of his nerves. His nerves, however, were not even about himself. It was for Blossom.

"Blossom, why haven't you—" Ms. Bellum interrupted herself. She darted her eyes to Boomer and Brick, recognizing there was an audience instead of her being alone with her daughter. Sara cleared her throat, getting over her initial shock, and appearing to be without any stirring emotions. "What brings you to Phoenix?"

"We need to discuss certain things," Blossom said neutrally, keeping straight eye contact with her mom. It was perhaps the coldest Boomer has ever seen Blossom be.

"I've been trying to..." Her eyes shifted back over to Brick and Boomer again, lingering on Brick a bit longer than Boomer. Her voice was a barbwire fence looking to harm others in order to protect the pain she kept safeguarded inside of herself. " _Discuss_ our personal matters with you for some time now, but you have made the childish decision to block your own mother's phone number. So what makes you believe showing up at my work unannounced with _these particular boys,_ will make things any better?"

"Because you _want_ this. You want my attention and you want me to hear you out," Blossom answered neutrally without missing a beat. "I'll let you make your peace without any arguments from me, and then you'll have to listen to our appeal without any interruptions. Do we have a deal?"

Ms. Bellum pondered over her question. Her mahogany eyes slid over to Brick one more time, narrowing them slightly. "We do, but this is between you and me. No one else."

" _No_."

Boomer arched an eyebrow, glancing at Blossom who remained solemn in her stance against her mom. Her hand had found its way to Brick's, lacing their fingers together in a defiant action.

"Excuse me? Blossom, this isn't—"

"Whatever you can say to me, you can say in front of them," Blossom challenged. "They know the truth and they know who you _really_ are. There is nothing you have to hide from us."

Ms. Bellum sent a harsh stare at Blossom, and then to her and Brick's entwined hands. "Fine."

"Do you want to start now?" Blossom questioned with a slight bite to her words.

Ms. Bellum leaned over her desk, rubbing circles into her temple. An exhausted breath escaped her lips as she shook her head.

"I guess I'll start from the beginning, which is... I—I never wanted to be a mom," Ms. Bellum confessed in a breath. "I never wanted to have a kid. The thought of it, quite frankly, disgusted me."

She lifted her head, connecting with Blossom's eyes immediately and only her's. It was as if Brick and Boomer were suddenly invisible to her.

"But then I got pregnant by your father. It was a foolish and reckless accident that I had no chance to recover from. I embarrassed myself by telling your father, who I was even more foolishly in love with at the time, and he fired me before I could make any other decision. So there I was. Back in miserable Townsville, Arizona. Humiliated, broke, and pregnant. I thought about ending it. I wanted to go back to normal and figure out a way to recover from the gigantic fumble I had already made early in my career. But then I realized something the night before I was going to head to a women's clinic."

" _This was my meal ticket_. I was knocked up by a senator who would want nothing more than to keep it a secret. So I stayed pregnant and I let your father know of my decision. As I wanted and predicted, he felt guilty enough to pay for everything I could have ever asked for."

Ms. Bellum's face softened for a moment. A harsh contrast to the stone-faced expression Blossom was giving her.

"You see, baby, I never wanted to be a mother. When I was pregnant with you, I was in such a dark place in my life. It just… I was so desperate for any opportunity I could get because that was my instincts to do. To always look out for myself and no one else. But then, I had you, Blossom."

"You were this tiny, beautiful baby who was wholeheartedly dependent on me and the second I saw you, I knew nothing else mattered. You were what was going to come first now. You were the one thing I loved the most in this world. And I was going to do anything it took to give you a better life and opportunities than I had."

"So then I pushed. I got in your ear. I told you to apply to out of state schools. I tried to persuade you against harmful relationship choices." Her eyes went to Brick for a second before going back to Blossom. Brick's cheek twitched at the motion, biting down on his tongue from calling out her obvious dislike towards him. "I wanted you to be the best I knew you could be. And I made," Sara banged her fist against the wood of her desk out of frustration. Her composed nature broke down for the moment to display the same amount disappointment on her face. " _Damn_ sure you were going to get out of Townsville and away from Him and whatever destruction that was to come."

Her eyes narrowed for a moment. "But then you had to ruin it. You had to come back and then you, you," Ms. Bellum's voice began to quiver a little. She tried to clear her throat but there was no helping the cracks of emotion spilling out of her foundation now. "I can't protect you anymore. I failed at doing what I said I was going to do. You… I just wanted to protect you, Blossom. That's all I've ever wanted for the past nineteen years of your life."

Blossom knitted her eyebrows together, appearing to consider her mom's explanation. Her lips were pursed out ever so slightly.

Boomer scratched at the back of his neck. He was wishing Blossom had made the decision to have kept this moment private between her and her mother. Boomer was not quite sure if he was supposed to be sympathetic towards Ms. Bellum—an emotion he never thought to associate with a woman who once fondly called him a "pathetic loser" behind his back—or wait eagerly for Blossom to call her out on her bullshit.

Blossom, however, did something Boomer did not predict. She let go of Brick's hand, taking a few short steps towards her mom and brushed her fingers up against the skin of Ms. Bellum's wrists. Her rose-colored eyes were drained of life as she was transported to another time right in front of them.

* * *

 _Unknown Date_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Unknown Time…_

"I don't want to do any of this. It's not fair. I have a family," Caroline Lumpkins argued in a hushed voice.

Her, Sedusa, Rex Morbucks and Sara Bellum were gathered in Sara's living room on a newly purchased couch and loveseat. A baby monitor sat on the coffee table for Sara to hear any rustling occurring in the nursery of her four month old daughter.

"We all have families now, Caroline," Sedusa pointed out flatly.

Caroline shook her head, pointing a finger at Sedusa, "If you truly cared about their well being, you wouldn't participate in such malicious matters. Protecting our children should be our first priority."

"My wife could do that for me," Rex dismissed. "I don't have time to be bending over backwards for my daughter. She needs to be toughened by the world."

"And what about the other factors you're involved in? Aren't you terrified of what that _thing_ could do to her?" Caroline objected with wide emerald eyes. Her cheeks were growing red from the outrage she was keeping contained within herself.

Rex smiled at her devilishly, "Ah. I'm afraid that is out of my hands, Carol. I've accepted my fate. Perhaps you should do the same."

"Absolutely not. I am not going to continue to raise Butch with the looming threat of that _thing_ wanting to terrorize us into compliance."

"But maybe that is the only way to protect your son," Sara presented. Her eyes went to the baby monitor on the table. "I know I am going to do whatever I can to prevent Blossom from being exposed to what we have been, but Rex is right. There's nothing we can do to save ourselves. The best we can do is to save our children from getting involved."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Caroline questioned. Her emerald eyes were narrowed sharply at Sara, obviously displeased to hear her reasoning.

"Push them. Get them the hell out of Townsville the minute they turn eighteen. Make sure they never come back once they do. Anything to make sure Him doesn't get a hold of them."

"So we basically raise them and then we have to make peace with having to lose them?" Sedusa gathered, her dark eyebrows were turned downward.

"It's what we have to do," Sara answered solemnly.

"Gives me a good reason not to give Princess the Morbucks' fortune now," Rex contemplated to himself.

All three of the girls rolled their eyes at him, choosing not to even acknowledge his presence anymore.

"I'm not doing that," Caroline announced after a beat. She shook her head full of ebony ringlets. "I have wanted to be a mother my entire life. I want to be a part of my son's life until my last breath. I want to have more children with my lovely husband. And I can do none of those things here. I'm not made out to be a part of some corrupt scheme that _thing_ has y'all wrapped up in. I'm not going to be a part of any of this. I have made a decision and I'm choosing my family over what could happen."

With that said, Caroline stood up from the loveseat she sat on, smoothing out the lines in her skirt. She reached down, grabbing her purse from off of the ground and slinging it onto her shoulder.

"Caroline, I would be careful. Him might not like hearing what you—"

"Thank you for your concern, but I've made my decision," Caroline stated politely. She nodded her head in each of the three's directions. "I hope y'all have a nice rest of your evening."

The three remained quiet as they waited for Caroline to exit Sara's home. Even though she would not admit it, Sara felt her stomach drop into a place she did not know it could. There was a certain heaviness in the air around them. Like having to light a match in a room coated in kerosene, Sara had a sick feeling she could not figure out.

"This isn't going to end well," Sedusa commented warily.

Sara opened her mouth to respond but it was interrupted by the sound of tires skidding loudly against the asphalt of the road in front of her house before crashing and being rammed into a thick pair of pine trees on the other side of the street.

 _There it was_. The reason for her sick feeling.

Sara knew it. She knew even before they walked outside to see whose car had crashed into the trees down the road from her home. She knew there was no way anyone could survive such an accident. She knew it would have killed them instantly upon impact. She knew it had been Caroline.

And Sara Bellum knew it was a direct message from Him.

* * *

 _November 23rd_

 _Phoenix, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

When Blossom came back to her physical reality, she recoiled her hand away from her mom. Her rose-colored eyes were darkened by what she had witnessed.

Ms. Bellum furrowed her eyebrows aggressively, perplexed by Blossom's actions. "Blossom, what is—"

"I think I've heard enough," Blossom interrupted in a short tone, narrowing her eyes at her mother.

She then dug into the pockets of her jean shorts, pulling out a folded piece of paper. Blossom then gave it to her mom, not even bothering to wait until her mom got a grip on it to let go of the piece of paper. Ms. Bellum arched an eyebrow at Blossom spitefully, picking up the paper from her desk and reading off whatever was written on it.

"What is this supposed to be?" Ms. Bellum questioned, almost sounding baffled by what was on it.

"A list of things we need." Rose-colored eyes swept over Boomer and Brick before landing on her mother's. "A list of things _I_ need done."

This was an action Boomer had no intel about. In hindsight, he should have made sure Blossom would not have gone rogue with her own ideas on the drive over. After all, Boomer thought he would have taken the lead on talking to Ms. Bellum once Blossom partly cleared the air between them. It was the impression he got from Blossom before leaving. She wanted him to take the lead yet, Blossom was doing her own thing.

 _She doesn't believe in you,_ Boomer heard whispered in his ears. His stomach gurgled from the sense he was not good enough. Why else would Blossom go ahead and erase his effort for her own? He could consider it would be better for Blossom to convince her mom to help them, but Boomer could not shake the feeling of being inadequate in regard to Blossom's decision making.

He did not feel like a person who was a leader. He felt more like Blossom's lackey.

 _A disappointment_.

Ms. Bellum re-read the list. A wave of recognition came over her. With it, her eyes grew glassy and rimmed with a faint redness. "You shouldn't get involved. Blossom please, I beg you—"

"You don't get a say in what I do. I'm not some _little girl_. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. And it's time for all of this to end," Blossom answered defiantly, turning her nose up at her mom. "So if you do care about me—"

"And I do! I love and care about you, Blossom!" Her mother argued, raising from her chair and pounding both her fists into the solid surface of her desk. Boomer was afraid Sara was a few seconds away from divulging into a temper tantrum. "You're the only thing I love! And I'm not letting you—"

"The decision has already been made," Blossom said over her mother's distraught nature, speaking in a calm manner. "And _if_ what you're saying has any ounce of truth to it, then you will have no problem doing as I ask you to do and not telling a single soul about it." She lifted an eyebrow up in challenge, "Do we have a deal?"

* * *

"I made a playlist while I was waiting. Can I play it?" Bubbles asked with a detectable amount of excitement in her voice. "I made sure to add music that each one of us likes."

Boomer, who vaguely understood what she asked due to his focus on backing out of the parking space his car took up, nodded his head slowly, "Yeah, sure."

The walk out of Ms. Bellum's office to his car was a quiet one. Bubbles was practically bouncing with delight when they came out, ecstatic to leave the premises without any interaction with Ms. Bellum. Even when they slid into their car seats—Bubbles occupied the passenger seat, while Blossom and Brick sat in the back—nothing but the clicking of their seat belts was amplified for them. Bubbles asking to play music was the first thing to be spoken about, post their impromptu meeting with Blossom's mom.

It felt as if they were each holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Someone was going to ask questions none of them truly had answers to. All they had, was to hope they did not ruin their chances by approaching Sara Bellum, of all people, for an act of pure selflessness and trust.

"So…" Boomer could hear Bubbles tapping her fingers against the middle console dividing her and his' seats. There was a bit of apprehension in her tone, frightened by the thought of asking the wrong question. His attention was half listening to the tapping in mild irritation, and the other half trying to keep track of the other cars zooming past him—Boomer put safety over speed every time when driving. An electric beat was consumed by a pop star's strong vocal range was playing on the speakers of his car, thanks to Bubbles taking over his aux cord. "How did it go?"

From his rear-view mirror, Boomer caught Brick mid eye roll as Boomer switched the car into a different lane.

"I gave her a list of things she could do to help us," Blossom answered after a beat in a delicate voice. Just one false move, one wrong push of a button, and Boomer knew more than anyone else how easily Blossom could come undone. And perhaps, it was the same for him too. "Now we have to wait to see if she _actually_ does what I asked."

"That's all?" Bubbles inquired. "You were in there for a long time."

"My mom…" Blossom had let out a tiresome sigh. "I had to bargain with her and let her get a few things off of her chest."

Brick snorted at her word choice, "That's a way to put it, sweetheart."

Bubbles turned in her seat in between a shift of songs. Now an indie band with a tropical vibe played—Boomer let himself smile for a second, knowing this was an inclusion to the playlist on his behalf. The ends of Bubbles' platinum curls were visible in Boomer's rear-view mirror. "Are you okay?" There was genuine concern for Blossom in her soft voice. "She didn't get in your head, right?"

"No…" Blossom let out another sigh. From the brief glimpse Boomer could get, her body had appeared to have sunken in on itself as Brick wrapped an arm over her shoulder in a protective manner. "No, she didn't. I—I've come to terms with what my mom is and what she has done. There's nothing she can say that changes the fact she was compliant to doing such horrendous things for a long length of time... Besides, she's probably only feeling remorse about what she's done because _I know_. That's the only difference in her behavior. It's not enough to fix things between us..."

"I'm sorry, Blossom," Bubbles whispered sincerely.

"It'll be alright," Blossom mustered up weakly.

Bubbles' hand reached out to gently touch Blossom's knee, giving it a good squeeze before turning back around in her seat. Boomer glanced through his mirror to meet Blossom's eyes. They were pricked by a faint wetness, held back by the war inside of her on whether to let this have a physical affect over her.

"Do, um… Do you want to talk about what you saw?" Boomer had asked in a low voice.

His eyes instinctive went back to road as another car swerved into his lane in front of him without any warning, giving Boomer only a few seconds to press his brakes to prevent them from hitting the rude stranger's car. His head, and the others', jerked forward and then back into their respective headrests from the harsh pressure applied to his brakes. _Asshole_ , he cursed in his head as he muttered a, "Sorry," to the rest of the car.

"Oh… I, uh…" Blossom began after collecting herself from Boomer's sudden braking. Her eyes fell down to her lap. Brick, who had been gently rubbing her arm in comfort, moved her closer into him, sensing her need for more emotional support. Her right cheek rested against his chest, "I saw what was the last moments of Caroline Lumpkins' life…"

Boomer felt his body sink into his car seat. His mind was captured by a dull, white noise instantly. There was no way to find an understanding as to why he was impacted so much by Blossom's admission.

Perhaps it was the moral dilemma of it all. Whether Boomer was allowed to feel empathy for Butch. Sympathy, Boomer felt and did not question whether he was wrong to feel sorry for Butch after everything that had happened between them. But knowing if Boomer was allowed to be emotional; if Boomer should hear what Blossom saw before Butch; if the innate want to comfort and be there for his friend—or _former_ friend—if Blossom had the chance to deliver such news to Butch, was all strong enough to overpower Boomer's harsh feelings. If it washed away what had been done. Because this was bigger than Butch and Boomer. Bigger than hurt feelings. But was it bigger than betrayal and turning on everyone in favor of an inter-dimensional demon and his girlfriend?

Inappropriately, a serotonin-soaked, sunshiney and sugary-sweet showtune pumped through the speakers of Boomer's car to fill the void of silence between the four of them. Boomer cringed a little when he caught on to it—and Bubbles must have noticed it at the same time as him because she skipped to the next song. A gritty voice now crooned to them, fitting the atmosphere of the car much better.

"You don't have to tell us what happened," Brick murmured to Blossom. It was supposed to be only exchanged between them but due to the quietness plaguing the four, Bubbles and Boomer faintly heard it too.

"That's something…" Boomer cleared his throat, unable to finish his sentence. _That's something only Butch should hear about_ , was what he caught himself from saying.

A moment passed. The noise of the car moving along the highway back to Townsville and the music playing filled in the gaps of silence.

"Do you think Ms. Bellum will go through with what you asked of her?" Bubbles asked with a hint of hesitation. It was a clear venture to changing the topic. One all of them were secretly holding their breaths for.

"I doubt it," Brick answered without skipping a beat. His face clearly expressed his displeasure towards them needing to depend on Ms. Bellum.

Blossom's eyes met Boomer's in his rear-view mirror, "Depends on how guilty she'll feel."

"From what she said, I would think she would want a way out," Boomer theorized, flicking on his left blinker, glancing over his left shoulder for his blind spot, and sliding into the vacant lane beside him in one fluid motion. "And she _did_ say we had a deal. But then again, she would also sell us out with no regrets."

"If Blossom is involved, there will be some regrets," Brick inputted. "It will be the most minimal as humanly possible but it will be there."

Blossom lifted her head from his chest, looking him over with her lips pursed, nodding once, "You're not wrong."

"Then how can we ensure Boom's plan will work? Don't we need Ms. Bellum to even do it?" Bubbles wondered.

Boomer tightened his grip on his steering wheel, hearing the familiar foghorn full of panic blare in his head. His stomach was churning from the realization Bubbles was right. What were they supposed to do if Ms. Bellum did not help? Ms. Bellum _did_ agree to their deal. Yet, there was a margin of error they had to evaluate. The error of whether they had misplaced their trust in the wrong wildcard.

"She'll do it," Blossom decided firmly in a short manner. She glanced out the window beside Brick, watching the passing cars speeding along by them. "I have a feeling she can't say no to what I brought to her."

"So we're just gambling here?" Brick grasped, furrowing his eyebrows from minor frustration. "You're going all in on someone who we can't decide gave us a straight answer or not?"

"Sometimes you have to roll the dice, Brick," Blossom countered calmly.

"But that's not going to help us. We are still at point A here on this plan. Where do we go from here because we're sitting ducks at the moment?" His eyes flickered from Blossom to Boomer. "What _exactly_ do you have planned next?"

"Ummmmm..."

"Brick..."

"And the plan you have isn't enough," Brick continued over their unfulfilling one-word replies, shaking his head a little. "I get you're still working out the kinks but, sweetheart," he kept his gaze steady on Blossom for a lingering moment before letting it go to Boomer. "Boom, you have to realize three people is never going to distract Him long enough to lose track of Blossom. Even if I set the entire town on fire or Bubbles froze it in order to fight, Him wouldn't lose himself and become reckless when challenging _only_ three people. Not to mention, Him has three actual people with powers to fight against us too. There would be no need for Him to get his hands dirty at all, if you really think about it."

Boomer blanched at the thought of fighting against Butch, Ace, and Berserk; while the girls kept a straight face at the mention of them.

"Then what do we do?" Bubbles inquired. From the corner of his eye, Boomer could see Bubbles picking at her nails, letting a little frost fly into the dashboard in front of the passenger seat.

The answer to her question was right there in front of them. It was a haunting presence. A ghost they could not shake. The incompleteness of their group was growing more and more noticeable the longer they attempted to re-imagine a plan to take down Him.

There were three options they could take. Three very different options, who each all had one thing in common—they have all expressed their disdain in continuing to fight against Him.

Boomer let out a shaky sigh, his body jittered from the acknowledgement he was about to make out loud. "We, um, need Buttercup, Brute, and Princess…"

"Buttercup hates me," Blossom found herself immediately thinking out loud.

"She doesn't hate you," Bubbles asserted as she tapped on her phone.

"Finding a way to convince them is going to be tricky," Brick pointed out.

"Brute did say she wanted nothing to do with us…" Blossom recalled bleakly of the passing words they received from—an overly emotional but rightfully so—Brute after Brat's funeral.

"Princess blocked our numbers, right?" Bubbles checked, looking up from her phone for a moment to turn in her seat to face the back of the car. "I asked her about Brat's funeral and my message still hasn't been delivered."

"None of mine have either," Blossom confirmed, following a dejected sigh.

"And Buttercup… _is Buttercup_ ," Boomer added with the others instantly understanding what he meant.

The foghorn in his head got much louder. He was supposed to have this figured out. Look at everything from each angle. How could he miss this? He could not let Blossom and the others down.

 _This is just another reason why you should not have agreed—_

"Buttercup is at the skating rink in Citiesville," Bubbles announced, interrupting Boomer's berating tangent of a thought.

He swallowed and pushed away the doubts ripping through his system. He was silently fighting through a wicked spell of hiccups, struggling the most against them since he agreed to Blossom's position for him.

"How do you know?" Boomer questioned skeptically.

"It's on her story," Bubbles explained. She lifted her phone up in Boomer's direction. "See."

Boomer kept his eyes on the road in front of him, "Bubs, I'm driving."

"Oh right." She let out a quick laugh, taking her phone away and bringing it back to her lap. Her finger moved to tap through something on her screen. "It's on her _Snapchat_ story."

" _Snapchat_? People still use that?" Boomer's face twisted in confusion. "I thought everyone stopped using it after high school."

"They do still use it and you can use it after high school," Bubbles answered in a matter-of-factually manner. "And thanks to Buttercup still using her's, I know she's at the skating rink. And—" Bubbles paused, grinning widely. She turned in her seat once more, showing Blossom and Brick something on her phone. Her nail tapped hard against the screen, "And tell me you see those red curls in the corner of this picture too."

Brick squinted his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so," he answered uncertainty.

"Oh my god, that's Princess," Blossom remarked with her mouth hung a little.

"What? How could you tell that's her? It's only like a few strands of hair?" Brick inquired in disbelief.

Bubbles giggled at him, while Blossom lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. "It's a girl thing," Blossom shrugged. "I could probably know you from a picture if it was just of your hands."

A corner of Brick's lips turned upward, "Yeah but that's because you like my hands and when I—"

"We're getting off topic," Blossom decided abruptly, her cheeks adorned by a bright redness. She focused back on Bubbles and her phone, pretending as if she was not flustered to the thousandth degree. "So um, Princess?" Brick chuckled to himself as Blossom rambled, "That's totally her, right Bubs? She's at the skating rink with Buttercup, right? We should go to the skating rink, right?"

Bubbles did not bother to hide her amusement of Blossom's rapid detour back to the subject at hand, nodding along to Blossom's question with a toothy smile. "I think we should." She looked over to Boomer, her elbow propped up on the middle console. "Detour?"

"Should we? What are we even going to say to them?"

"We need them back on our side or we're all going to die," Brick pointed out as if it was such a simple task to do.

" _Okay_ ," Boomer replied in hesitation, elongating the "y". "And what about Brute?"

"Princess is there," Bubbles stated. "I'm pretty positive Brute is going to be there if Princess is."

Boomer pondered over her reasoning for a few seconds before nodding, "Yeah, you're right."

"So we're going to the skating rink?" Brick checked.

"I guess," Boomer answered as he switched over to the right lane to be closer to the incoming exit that lead to Citiesville instead of Townsville.

"The skating rink is so fucking random," Brick muttered under his breath in reply.

* * *

 _May 3rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Two years ago..._

A ballroom in City Hall was decorated to fit the aesthetic of old Hollywood glamour for North Townsville High's annual prom. A dance floor the color of a red carpet was placed in the middle of the spacious room. Spotlights with golden bulbs, danced across the room in various directions. The backdrop of the Hollywood sign was placed behind the DJ booth. Tables were draped in black cloth, topped with centerpieces of big, fluffy feathers in hues of ivory and scarlet red. Paper cutouts of film rolls were stuck onto the walls and stars decorated in silver and gold glitter dangled from the ceiling. A photo booth was placed in the farthest corner from the doors, along with a table of props to use. There was a long table covered in a white tablecloth instead of black, containing a whole array of sweets made by a catering company and a chocolate fountain.

Boomer stuck a pretzel rod under the veil of milk chocolate, watching the dark liquid delicately coat the salty stick. Bring the freshly covered pretzel to his lips to eat, Boomer glanced at the watch on his wrist. He grumbled a little under his breath, furrowing his brow.

It was his senior prom. A night Boomer was genuinely excited to experience given his enjoyment of his previous prom from a year ago. Blossom and Bubbles were his friendly dates again, and part of the reason why his last prom night was one of the best nights he has ever had.

But instead of spending the night with his "dates", Boomer found himself stuck mediating the awkward tension between Buttercup and Butch. The two had decided to go as prom dates again despite the implications of what happened last time.

Implications, in which, Boomer had knowledge of and was sworn into secrecy about. Butch, for the lack of better words, was embarrassed by what happened last year. From losing control of his emotions and then believing it would develop into anything more. Boomer understand Butch was petrified of repeating the same actions of last year. Somehow, Butch had persuaded his way into having Boomer help him avoid the entire ordeal from happening again.

If Boomer had any nerve to state his opinion on it, he found the whole situation a mistake on Butch's part. Common sense wise, Butch should not put himself in the position of where he was a "date" for Buttercup in any scenario when she wanted to ignore what happened. But Buttercup happened to be dateless and Butch was still undeniably in love with her despite his hard feelings towards her and what has occurred in the past year; and who was Boomer to _really_ say anything about unrequited feelings?

He had spent most of the night being the third wheel to the date-that-should-have-never-been-a-date, acting as a shadow to the pair. For the first hour and a half, it was not too bad with the catered dinner keeping them occupied and a good hour on the dance floor as a set of throwback rap music played. Eventually, the DJ shifted to a more mellow tempo for couples and announcing prom court. Once the DJ made the choice to change the mood of music, so did the one between Buttercup and Butch. They barely spoke to each other, sitting at opposite ends of the table they occupied for the night when catching their breaths after dancing. Boomer had to go back and forward between conversations with them to fill the time. It was either they spoke to him or were absorbed to the screens of their phones.

Boomer could not help but wonder why they were torturing each other like this. Why remain with each other in such close proximity despite neither seeming to be enjoying themselves? Buttercup could have left to join Bubbles and Blossom on the dance floor. Or Butch could have asked another girl to the dance. They both could have came to the dance _alone_. Boomer simply could not grasp why the two were consciously suffocating each other with the past while trying to move on from it. It seemed like they were too proud to admit the depths of resentment they had over what occurred a year ago.

It was a bubble waiting to burst but Boomer was sure it was not going to be tonight that it would. However, it did not stop Boomer from selfishly wishing it did. Perhaps them arguing would finally allow the two to communicate about their feelings and Boomer would not have to be stuck with them.

Yet, they both sat in boredom at their table, staring at the bright screens of their phones, ignoring the other's existence, while Boomer got the courage to leave for a minute to get a snack before the night ended. A decision that produced a look from Butch that read, in short, for Boomer to be quick.

Which brought him to the chocolate fountain, finishing off his freshly dipped pretzel bitterly as Boomer acknowledged there were only thirty minutes left to his senior prom. _What a waste of a night_ , Boomer remarked to himself.

If Butch was not such a good friend, Boomer might have been a bit more irritated.

"There you are, Boom!" Boomer heard exclaimed gleefully over the heavy bass of the music playing. He looked over his shoulder, finding Bubbles making her way over to him.

He had already seen her multiple times that night but each time still left him even more breathless.

Bubbles wore a sapphire colored A-line dress with a halter neckline. When the fabric moved, the light caught onto the silver sparkles in the fabric glimmering against the dark blue silk chiffon dress—It reminded Boomer of stars twinkling in the midnight sky. The bottom of the dress was puffed out from tulle hidden underneath. Her hair was done in a loose half do; her platinum blonde curls were hitting at her shoulders. Bubbles went for more of an accentuated look with her makeup. A clean face of foundation and contouring, a nude gloss, thick and long faux eyelashes, and a shimmering highlight similar to the glitter of her dress.

Boomer believed she looked like a princess. A character straight out of a fairy tale. Someone too enchanting to ever forget.

Like Boomer would ever want to forget Bubbles anyways.

"I've been looking all over for you," Bubbles stated when she got close enough to him to where she no longer needed to shout. "Where have you been?"

Boomer glanced over to Buttercup and Butch, "Umm… I've been doing prom things, you know?"

Bubbles gave him a strange look, arching an eyebrow, before giggling at his answer. "Well, if you're doing prom things," She reached out, grabbing his right forearm with both of her petite hands. Her palms gripped at his skin, thanks to Boomer having rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt over an hour ago. His ocean blue eyes immediately went to where she touched him and then to her eyes. Boomer could feel a fire burning in his cheeks. "Can we go take some pictures at the photo booth?"

He chewed down on his bottom lip, looking over to Butch and Buttercup once again. "Uh…"

"Come on, Boom." She leaned closer to him. His forearm and her hands were pressed up closer to her stomach now. Her light blue eyes were widened in a puppy dog stare. "I want a memory of us."

Boomer felt his stomach churn. An anxious jitter struck through his body and his free arm was beginning to slightly shake. Despite how his body reacted, it was like Bubbles had said some magical words to coax him. He swallowed harshly, nodding his head and displaying a nervous smile.

"Yeah, we should, um, take some pictures," he agreed, before adding, "I would love to take some."

"Great!" Bubbles grinned brightly.

She still held onto his arm but with only one hand now as she led him to the photo booth and farther away from Butch and Buttercup—which was the last time Boomer would think about the two for the remainder of his prom night.

They joined a short line of their classmates—Boomer recognized a guy from his chemistry class and his girlfriend were ahead of them—and it was then when Bubbles had let go of his arm. The area where she had touched him, felt as if it was no longer a part of him. As if he was experiencing phantom pains that were not painfully at all. Instead, he felt lighter. A part of himself in which felt airy, no longer being weighed down by the rest of his body.

"So where's Blossom?" He asked to keep his mind off of the way his skin seemed to dance from Bubbles' touch.

"I think she's dancing with Holly…" Bubbles answered uncertainly, looking over her shoulder to the dance floor for Blossom. "Or maybe it was Julie." She turned back to him with a sheepish grin. "I kind of left without saying anything to her."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows, "Why?"

"I wanted to get some time with you," she stated with simplicity. As if it was not such an impactful string of words to say to him.

It took a lot in Boomer to keep his head calm. To not read too much into anything. To be a friend in the moment and not let his anxious mind create thoughts in which would only leave him disappointed.

"We hang out almost everyday, Bubs," he refuted nonchalantly to make things more casual. To convince himself to behave casually.

"I know, but it's prom," Bubbles explained with a smile. One of the spotlights washed over her in the moment, capturing her highlight in a mesmerizing glow. "And even if it's as friends, you are one of my dates."

Ah, there it was. The word _friends._ It did not hit him in a harsh manner or like a sucker punch to the stomach. By now, Boomer had gotten used to it and accepted it with a flinch or a quick but mildly painful twist of a knot in his chest. Soon, the jitters in his body would go back to a minuscule level and Boomer would be able to focus on having a good time with Bubbles.

After a five minute wait, they had made it to the front of the line and went to stand before the red curtain backdrop. Bubbles swiftly picked up a few props. A yellow feather boa was wrapped around her neck as she went to place an extremely large and outrageous pair of green and purple sunglasses on Boomer.

"Is this necessary?" He questioned despite the amused grin striking across his lips.

"Absolutely," Bubbles responded before sticking out her tongue at him as a bright light flashed at them.

The feather boa was stripped from her neck and placed back onto the props table. She took off his sunglasses too.

Bubbles then pursed her lips in an exaggerated manner. It took Boomer a second to realize she was doing what people called the "duck face". He followed suit, throwing up a peace sign too, tilting his head to the left, and squinting his eyes on purpose as another flash struck against them.

The next photo, they were not prepared for as Boomer and Bubbles were trying to decide on what to do next. Instead of figuring it out, the camera impatiently took matters into its own hands and snapped a photo of them mid-conversation.

"Oooo, I know!" Bubbles exclaimed enthusiastically, blinking through the recent bright flash that hit her eyes. "We should do that cliche prom pose."

"You mean the one where I'm supposed to wrap my arms around you as we stare wistfully off into the distance?"

"Yes!" Bubbles jumped a little. The silver high heels she wore peeked out from underneath her dress. "Let's do it!"

"Okay," Boomer croaked out through his forcefully, excited smile.

He hesitantly draped his arms around her, sucking in an uneasy breath. His heart pounded into his rib cage in a painful rhythm. His stomach was a vortex spinning around in a chaotic speed. He may have swallowed at his dry throat more than once as Bubbles leaned her head back into his chest. Her hands overlapped his, and for a moment, it gave him a brief glimpse.

A glimpse into what it would actually be like to be with her. To be allowed to hold her like this on a regular occasion and not for some cliche prom picture. To be the one to brighten her day and to be able to love her loudly instead of all in his head.

Boomer did not even notice when the flash for the last photo went off or when Bubbles maneuvered her way out of his arms. It was a bit of a heavy daze he was under that Boomer was not able to come out of until Bubbles handed him a thin strip of film containing their photos.

They took the time to examine each photo once they left the photo booth. His ocean blue eyes memorized each aspect with an analytical stare.

For the first one, Bubbles was turned to her left side. Her tongue pointed up at him as if she was about to lick him. The yellow boa contrasted brightly against the sapphire hue of her dress. He had his arms crossed, grinning with amusement straight at the camera. The ridiculous pair of sunglasses Bubbles gave him covered up most of his face from the nose up. Her hand had been gently placed on the folded of his elbow for support, an action Boomer did not seem to take notice of when in the moment.

In the second picture, Boomer was sure he looked like a total douchebag. He could not stop himself from chuckling at the image. Bubbles, however, had made even the "duck face" look quite cute.

The third photo was the one where they were captured off guard. Bubbles was laughing at something Boomer had suggested. Her head thrown back a little, eyes looking up at him. Her nose was crinkled and lines met her eyes from the smile in her cheekbones. A hand was lightly placed on his arm once again—and again, Boomer did not even realize it in the moment. Her other hand attempted to cover her mouth halfheartedly. Boomer was focused on her, grinning with unframed adoration while speaking mid-sentence. It was the first time Boomer had ever seen himself visually look in love. There was a certain warmth in his eyes, to which, Boomer has never seen before in any pictures of himself.

The last picture was probably his least favorite. Bubbles had nailed the entire awkward-wishfully-stare-off-into-the-distance look of the photo. He, on the other hand, looked like a nervous wreck—at least, in his opinion, Boomer did. It was evidence of his anxiety seeping through and onto his face—he never did have a good poker face.

"I love these!" Bubbles cooed, her eyes still glued to her strip of photos. "Don't you?"

Boomer found himself taking another look at the third picture. A genuine smile crept onto his lips. "Yeah, I do." He carefully made sure not to fold the strip as Boomer stuck it into the pocket of his black dress pants. "Thanks for convincing me to take them."

Bubbles glanced up at him. A dazzling grin greeted him in full force. "Of course. I—"

"Alright, North Townsville, this is going to be the last song of the night. I would make my way to the dance floor if I were you," the DJ spoke smoothly over the music.

Light blue eyes widened with excitement once more for the night, grabbing Boomer's arms and dragging him to the dance floor.

"We haven't gotten to dance together tonight," she recognized, turning her head back to him in the rush towards the crowd gathering by the DJ. The golden lights cascaded over her platinum curls; a glowing halo erupted over her head.

"Well, we only got one chance now," Boomer responded back as she brought them to a halt at the edge of the crowd. They were barely standing on the faux red carpet dance floor.

"Yeah," she murmured softly through a delicate smile.

Her hands went to his shoulders, laying on the soft linen of his dress shirt. He placed his hands on the small of her back in a conservative fashion. A foot distance was placed between them as a gentle swell of a violin and cello played over them.

The DJ went for a slow song to cap off the night. The violin and cello faded out for a gentle strumming of an acoustic guitar as the singer sang about love in a raw yet devastatingly beautiful voice.

Bubbles eventually leaned forward and laid her head against his chest, resting peacefully while they swayed to the hypnotic song. Her hand kept a hold of her photo strip as Bubbles' arms moved to interlock behind his neck, draping over Boomer's shoulders in a loose manner.

Boomer was sure she would pick up on how furious his heart pumped blood through his veins. She would know this was not simply a dance between friends for him. And with quick consideration, Boomer did not care if Bubbles did notice and asked him about it afterward. In fact, Boomer found this to be one of the few moments where he was confident in understanding his feelings for Bubbles.

There was a warm, golden feeling Bubbles was able to sprout in his chest. A rare moment where his mind should be a jumbled mess but in reality, was full of clarity. As if he had awaited a treacherous storm raging on during the darkness of the night, only to find himself able walk out into the glowing daylight in the aftermath of it all.

If Boomer had any choice, he wished Bubbles _did_ notice and initiated a conversation for him to properly communicate his feelings for her. If Boomer had any choice, Bubbles would be the single person he would dance all his dances with. If he had any choice, Boomer would willing freeze time during this one particular moment. If he had any choice, Boomer would never want to forget this wonderful night.

* * *

 _November 23rd_

 _Citiesville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

The Galactic Skating Rink in Citiesville was themed after outer space—hence the name Galactic. Patrons had to first go through a small lobby to purchase a ticket to enter before accessing the actual skating rink.

The walls were painted in a cartoonish style of asteroids, aliens, UFOs, and fictional planets. The paint had a glow-in-the-dark finish, brightly ranging from neon green and pink to orange and yellow. The ceiling was coated with cheap green glow-in-the-dark stickers. Most of the hardwood rink itself was barely lit other than the luminous paint and stickers. The air smelt of a combination of sweat, feet, trapped in sunlight, and floor polish.

There was an arcade section to the right of the rink, which was lit up by three dim fluorescent overhead lights. A window adjacent to the entrance and next to the arcade was where an employee sat on the opposite side, handing out roller skates by shoe size. A snack bar was near the entrance of the skating rink and had items named with space puns. The dining area was the most lit area but it was mostly from old fluorescent lights that have not been changed in a good decade or so and flickered more often than not.

Boomer inhaled sharply, taking in the out-dated atmosphere of the rink. "God, I forgot how old this place is."

"Why do we never go anywhere clean?" Brick questioned in frustration. His ruby-colored eyes narrowed at the snack bar, frightening a nearby employee behind it who felt Brick was speaking to him directly. "Does anyone know how to clean? Or keep up maintenance? Like at all?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't go to the bathroom here if I were you," Bubbles acknowledged, shaking her head.

"This is going to be a nightmare," Brick said under his breath, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and displaying his dislike of the skating rink clearly on his face.

Boomer squinted his eyes, trying to make out a few of the figures in the ill lit space. "So we need to find—"

"Oh hell no!"

Boomer's eyes widened as his heart rate accelerated. He exchanged looks with Bubbles and Blossom, taking in a steady breath to prepare himself.

To prepare himself for the hurricane force that was Buttercup.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" She questioned with the faintest trace of venom to her words after striding over to them on a pair of skates. She crossed her arms, glaring at them—more specifically, at Blossom. An eyebrow arched upward in challenge, "Bubs. Boomer. Nice to know _she_ got to you."

"Buttercup, please," Blossom began. "They—"

Boomer narrowed his eyes, "I decided on my own—"

"Buttercup, you have to understand—" Bubbles pitched out, simultaneously with Blossom and Boomer.

Buttercup snorted, rolling her eyes so hard, Boomer could feel the equator shift from the mere force of it. "It's not going to work with me. So you might as well go home," she declared defiantly over them.

"That's not what we're here for," Boomer heard himself say. He furrowed his eyebrows, sharing the same confused look the others gave him. _Come Boomer, think of something_. He rubbed at the back of his neck, letting a fib roll off his tongue awkwardly, "We're, uh, we're here to," His eyes went over to window to collect roller skates. "We're here to skate, cause you know, skating is, um, _fun?_ "

Buttercup blinked at him, not falling for his obvious lie. " _Right_. The four of you," She dragged her finger along to point at all of them in a fluid motion. "Just randomly decide to go skating in Citiesville—"

"I told you it was fucking random," Brick mumbled to Blossom. A comment to which earned a gentle elbow to his side from her.

"—On the same day I'm here?" Buttercup raised both of her eyebrows, placing her hands on her hips and leaning her upper body closer to Boomer—on a normal day, they would be almost the same height, but with a pair of skates on, Buttercup was a good two inches taller than him. "You mean to tell me this is all just some crazy coincidence?"

Boomer stood there for a moment before reminding himself to respond. He nodded his head, swallowing harshly. "Yeah, um, totally crazy that you're here too—Cause who would have thought," Boomer noticeably cringed a little from his voice going up an octave and cracking. "You would go to the skating rink during your free time?" He let out a pain-stricken laugh, glancing over at Bubbles for help. "It's so _crazy._ "

"I was the one who suggested coming," Bubbles jumped in without skipping a beat, relieving Boomer from his suffering. "You know how I love the aesthetic of roller skates. And I wanted to do something fun before… _you know_..."

This lie.

This lie had Buttercup take a moment to consider if they were telling the truth or not. Boomer could not tell if he should let out a sigh of relief or continue to clench his body together in fear of further questioning.

"You better be here only to skate," Buttercup muttered before turning and rolling off to go back on the rink.

Bubbles had let out a deep breath, "That was close."

"Way too close," Boomer added. His eyes went to Blossom and Brick, "So I guess we're pretending to be here to skate."

Blossom pursed her lips. Doubt was evident on her face. It was clear Blossom wanted to stay as far away from being more on Buttercup's bad side than she already was. "Buttercup is onto us, maybe we shouldn't…"

"Or we let her, Princess and Brute let their guards down by going along with the lie and having them believe we're here to have fun. So then, when we _do_ make an appeal to them, there's less push back?" Boomer suggested, not even realizing what it was exactly he was saying until he finished. Where such a plan was formed inside of him, Boomer had no clue. But he had already presented it without having time to think it over.

"Wouldn't they get even more upset when realizing we lied?" Blossom countered.

Boomer blinked at her question, concluding to himself that what he propositioned was a solid way to get participation from the girls, even if it was a flying thought from him with no plans of landing. And it was not like anyone else was coming up with an idea to recover from Buttercup's suspicions. Despite the uncertainty that Boomer felt as a leader, he had a call to make.

He hesitantly shook his head, "Not if we make it seem _natural._ As if it's just something that came up in the organic way of conversation." Boomer straightened his posture subconsciously, "It's, um, hard to not talk about what's happening. Eventually one of them is going to slip up and we'll just have to be ready for when it happens."

"That's pretty shady, Boom," Brick remarked but he did not say anything about not going through with it. This let Boomer know that Brick would be on board if Boomer wanted to test out the plan. An acknowledgement that did not make Boomer feel any better about doing it.

Blossom did not appear too convinced. She kept her lips tight, before nodding once. "You're in charge, Boomer. If that's what you want to do, then we'll do it."

Boomer cast a look onto the rink, getting a small glimpse of Brute and Princess for the first time. His stomach was aching and he felt disgusting for having to lie to them. They wanted nothing to do with this anymore, yet they were subtlety forcing the three to reconsider. It could be mistaken for not having respect for their wishes but the four were desperate.

Boomer was desperate. Desperate to do a good job. To prove Blossom did not make a mistake in choosing him. To not let Brick, and now, Bubbles down too.

"It's what we need to do," he answered solemnly, meeting her eyes for a moment.

Blossom nodded again at him, her face softening, conveying a flash of recognition to understanding what it was like to make hard decisions for the sake of moving forward. She then turned to Brick, grabbing a hold of his arm.

"Shall we?"

Brick arched an eyebrow, "What? _Skate_? Sweetheart, I—" Blossom fluttered her eyelashes in a coaxing manner, pouting her lips. Brick closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose and exhaling loudly through his mouth. "You're lucky I have a hard time saying no to you."

"Oh, I know," Blossom grinned happily, dragging him over to the window to gather roller skates.

Boomer watched them walk away, bring himself to return his gaze to the one person left with him. He could not help acknowledging how this was the first time he has been alone with Bubbles since her freezing incident. They have only been interacting around Brick and Blossom for the past few days. _They were a buffer_ , Boomer realized like a wave slapping him across the face. He has been subconsciously avoiding the possibility of having to be alone with her.

Ever since he found out about her boyfriend, Mike—and then quickly learning they broke up a couple days afterward—Boomer has gotten some whiplash when it came to Bubbles. He was on the verge of letting go of his decade old crush on her but there was a part of him still holding on tightly to the last thread of it. The possibility of him and her, the long shot of it all, was not easily removed from his mind.

 _They were friends_ , Boomer had to convince himself, _only just friends._

Bubbles must of picked up on his hesitation to move forward to do anything—although, she may have read it as Boomer simply being awkward—as she glanced over to the rink, opening her mouth to speak to him.

"Remember when we used to come here in middle school?"

Boomer blinked at her, becoming acutely aware of his surroundings again. Most of the people in the rink were either his friends or high school students who took a day off early before their Thanksgiving break. Music from the eighties played over the speakers and he could not shake the smell of feet from infiltrating his nostrils.

"For those lame school fundraisers, right?"

"Yeah," Bubbles flashed a smile at him. Her light blue eyes gleaming from an idea. "And we would spend nearly the whole night racing each other?"

Boomer grinned at the memory. It took him awhile to get into skating. Blossom and Bubbles took the time to teach him during the first fundraiser event they attended in middle school together—and also helped him get over the fear of falling. Butch and Buttercup had spent most of the time playing _Galactica_ in the arcade instead. But when it came time to decide whether or not Boomer was strong enough to race, the five would gather together and take turns going up against each other. Bubbles and Boomer, surprisingly, were the ones who accumulated the fastest times. Bubbles, however, had the winning edge over him every time they went to a school fundraising event at the rink.

"Those were some good times," Boomer commented through his reminiscing.

"They were." Bubbles arched an eyebrow at him in a challenge, smirking. "But I bet you that I can still kick your butt at it."

Boomer mimicked her expression, "Oh do you now, Bubs?"

"Mmmhhhh."

He jerked his head in the direction of the window to collect roller skates, "Then why don't we put your words to the test?"

"I thought you would never ask," Bubbles remarked with amusement, making her way to the window with Boomer right by her side.

Once they got their skates and put them on—they were a bit dirtier and tighter than Boomer remembered—they went to one of the breaks in the rink. For a moment, they both surveyed the floor, waiting for the perfect moment to join the flow of skaters. Blossom and Brick—who was failing at hiding how much he was enjoying himself—went by them, skating hand and hand. So did Brute and Princess—oddly, they were not holding hands, Boomer noticed. It was after them and three high school students, did Boomer turn to Bubbles and elbowed her gently.

"You ready?"

"I am," she answered, gliding onto the smooth hardwood flooring of the rink. She turned around, skating backwards to face Boomer, giggling a little with her words. "The question is, if you're ready to lose?"

Boomer shook his head, taking large strides to join her. "Has Buttercup rubbed off on you? You're a bit feisty right now."

"Only because I want to beat you," Bubbles answered gleefully, turning around to skate in the correct direction. "Four laps, like usual?"

"If you can take it," Boomer smirked.

Bubbles snorted—Boomer could not help noting how adorable it sounded. "I would worry about yourself, Boom," she attempted to sound threatening but with how high pitch and innocent her voice was, it was like getting a threat from a _My Little Pony_ character. "On three?"

Boomer nodded, loosening his lanky arms. "One."

"Two."

They both got into racing positions, stopping for a brief second in the mild traffic of skaters.

"Three!" They shouted in unison before taking off.

Boomer moved fluidity, weaving through and around strangers and his friends. A slight breeze flowed through his shoulder length hair. A wide grin was plastered on his face as he tried to keep pace with Bubbles. The infectious _Hall and Oates_ song playing on the rink's speakers sang in his ears, becoming his own personal theme song in the moment.

They quickly made it onto their third lap while everyone else moving at a normal pace had made one full rotation around the rink. Boomer attempted to kick it into overdrive, tapping into his unused energy. His lungs burned in his chest in a glowing warmth. An excited laughter escaped his lips as he finally passed Bubbles—only by a single person's length but it was good enough for him.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Bubbles gracefully spun away from bumping into someone, determination fueling her eyes as her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

On the last lap, as they zoomed past everyone else, Boomer felt a giddiness in his chest. It was a break. A flutter of happiness and the feeling of dipping into his inner child. It was freeing and fun and the exact medicine to relieve his current stress levels.

He spotted blonde curls creeping into the corner of his vision. Bubbles was making large strides to get ahead of him—for someone with short legs, Bubbles was a force to be reckoned with in the speed department. Boomer turned his head slightly, his mouth opening to say something when he noticed someone ahead of him. He drifted away from the impending collision but Bubbles, who was _way_ _too_ blinded by the notion of winning, did not notice how close she was getting to the stranger, colliding straight into their shoulder, and losing her balance. She fell backwards, making a towering fall into the painful hardwood floor…

But she was caught mid-fall.

Boomer grasped her forearm firmly, using his weight to keep both of them from falling into the ground. He then helped lift Bubbles back up onto her feet. Her eyes reflected her appreciation as Bubbles faintly smiled at him. She shouted out an apologize to the person she hit—who had fallen to their knees first into the hardwood flooring—and got a dirty look in return.

"Thanks," she breathed steady. Her chest moved at a fast pace. Sweat coated her forehead and a few strands of her hair was sticky to her skin. "I didn't even see him."

"Got a little ahead of yourself?" Boomer grinned, raising an eyebrow. He moved forward, skating at the normal speed as the others around them, with Bubbles following suit.

"Maybe," Bubbles confessed sheepishly, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

"He was also going the pace of a snail," Boomer added to make her feel better.

Bubbles nodded, her eyes wide, "He was, wasn't he?"

Boomer chuckled to himself, nodding and then saying, "I'm guessing we're calling this a tie?"

"Yeah, I guess," Bubbles pouted stubbornly. "But I did beat you on the first two laps, so ha!" She stuck out her tongue at him.

His mind, for whatever reason, flashed back to the photo strip from prom he had push-pinned into the wall above his desk and the first photo they had taken that night. Boomer felt his stomach turn, along with the returning feelings he had from that night in particular.

"At least I got one lap over you," Boomer acknowledged, taking the small victory for what it was.

"If that other person didn't get in my way, I would have taken that lap too," Bubbles determined.

"You mean when you did that spin?" Boomer recalled with Bubbles nodding. "I think that was worth falling behind for." His eyes focused on her, ignoring the giggling from a couple teenage girls moving pass them. "I, um, forgot how graceful of a skater you are. Your body control is insane."

"I suppose my few years in ballet were made into good use," Bubbles grinned happily, taking a moment to put her arms over her head and spun around on her skates as if she was asked to be in fifth position.

Boomer's eyes watched her in wonderment, never wanting to look away from the radiant energy Bubbles poured out. "You would have been the best ballerina."

"Yeah, sure." She rolled her eyes in a light manner, a smile still on her lips. "If only I did not get cursed with curves and lost my ability to tuck my butt in."

It took all of the strength in Boomer's being to not give her a once over and take in the beautiful curves she had mentioned.

 _Friends!_ Boomer's mind shouted at him.

"I, uh, I think you could have still done it," Boomer pitched in, ignoring the flames burning in his cheeks. He would never be more grateful for the poor lighting of the skating rink than in this moment. "I went to a few of your recitals back then."

Bubbles tilted her head towards him, appearing as if she had regained long lost memories she did not even know were missing. " _Yeah_. Yeah, you did," she recognized with a small amount of astonishment.

"You were incredible to watch—even back then," Boomer continued, keeping himself from revealing it was at one of those recitals he had first realized how beautiful Bubbles truly was. He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "You're, um, kind of like the sun. It's hard not to focus on you because you, uh, shine so brightly, you know?"

Bubbles did not say anything to him. Instead, she had this wide, toothy smile that expressed way too many things for Boomer to firmly conclude what was the root of it. Bubbles then bumped her shoulder gently against him.

The sinking feeling of questioning if he said the wrong thing found a home in his stomach. _Was that something only friends said to each other?_

"What?"

Bubbles shook her head, laughing lightly. "Nothing." She nudged him once more. "I just really appreciate you, Boomer."

Now Boomer was the only flashing a wide, toothy smile like an idiot. His heart moved from a jolt of electricity.

"I appreciate you too, Bubs."

Bubbles cast an unreadable glance at him, "Good."

Boomer waited for her to say something else but instead, she continued to look in his direction. He arched an eyebrow.

"Everything okay?"

Bubbles nodded, craning her neck back a little to stare off in the distance. "Yeah." She stopped in the middle of her strides around the rink. Her finger pointed as a laugh escaped her lips. "Is it me or does that alien kind of look like you?"

"Huh?"

Boomer snapped his neck around to look at the painting in question, stopping in his lap like Bubbles had done. The alien was skinny, illustrated to be about the width of his arm, and colored in a neon cyan, glowing brightly in the dark lighting. It had one big eye and was throwing up a peace sign to the humans skating by it.

"Ummm…" Boomer felt his face twist up in disagreement. "No. That doesn't look like me at all."

"I think it does," Bubbles laughed louder now.

"It has one eye, Bubs!" Boomer defended, pointing at the two eyes he had in his skull. "I have two of them right here!"

"You're flaco like him though," Bubbles acknowledged, saying skinny in Spanish and giving Boomer a once over.

Boomer felt heat rise in his cheeks again from her eyes landing on him in such a nature. "Him? How do you know it's a boy?"

Bubbles shrugged her shoulders, beginning to make pace around the rink once again, with Boomer doing the same. "Just a feeling."

"Right," Boomer said sarcastically, chuckling a little and shaking his head. "Your mind is something else."

"Just like your's?"

"Touché." Boomer scratched at his head, furrowing his eyebrows with how crazy Boomer knew how he would sound with what he was about to say. "If anything, the alien I most resemble is the blue Monstar from _Space Jam_."

Bubbles pursed her lips, turning her head to a degree before clicking her tongue, a smile flashing across her face. "Oh my god, you're so right!"

"I know." He let out a quick laugh.

"I love that movie," Bubbles cooed. "It was the only one Buttercup and I could agree on to watch when we had sleepovers together. She liked the basketball, I liked the _Looney Tunes_. It was a perfect match."

"Yeah, that was what it was like for me and…" Boomer faltered, wishing he had not spoken up. His mind was reminiscing about the many afternoons in elementary school when he went over Butch's house to watch the particular movie. Boomer cleared his throat, moving forward before Bubbles could say anything. "I always wanted to be Michael Jordan when I was younger because of the movie, but now that I've grown up, I've realized I'm more like his assistant, Stan, than him."

Bubbles remained quiet for a moment. Her spirit appearing to dim down as she looked over at him.

"It's funny how things change as we grow older."

Boomer pondered over it, shrugging his shoulders. "Isn't that the point of growing up? Change is going to happen. It's a matter of accepting it or not."

Bubbles blinked at his words before nodding. "You're right." She kept her line of vision forward, keeping Boomer from getting a good read on her emotions at the moment. "I think I meant, on how we grow up thinking of one life for ourselves, but it never turns out how you thought it would."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows, attempting to key in on where this was coming from. "Something bothering you?"

"No. I just…" Bubbles let out a tired sigh. Her arms went to hug herself, still keeping her legs balanced to skate along with Boomer. She tilted her chin in Boomer's direction, but her gaze was skittish to his. "I've been thinking a lot about what has been happening and when Mike and I…" She coughed subtlety to herself. "He wanted me to go to Mexico with him for a research trip and I had this chance to leave Townsville. Before all of this, I would have never thought about leaving but now…" Bubbles was finally able to make direct eye contact with Boomer and keep it there. "I don't think I want to live here anymore if I had a choice."

Boomer ignored the faint sting at the image of Bubbles leaving to join Mike in Mexico. Instead, Boomer focused on the understanding he felt from what she was saying.

His eyes drifted to the flooring, watching it blur together as he skated over it, nodding slightly, "I feel the same way too. Only thing keeping me is—"

"Our friends," Bubbles finished for him.

Boomer lifted his head, meeting her eyes once more. "It's hard to find anyone who can come close to you guys."

"Yeah," Bubbles replied melancholy. She then shook her head, laughing a little spitefully. "I don't even know what I would _do_ if I left anyways. I only have a high school diploma and it's not like I have any special skills other than being a waitress."

Boomer narrowed his eyes at her, unhappy with her attempt to sell herself short. "You're a people person. Your social skills are impeccable, Bubs. You could do customer service or guiding or, like, literally anything where you have to talk to people because once someone talks to you, they're already going to have a memorable and pleasant experience," Boomer babbled, not even catching himself on whether it was inappropriate territory or not.

Bubbles, however, did not seem too happy about what he had said. She let go of herself. Her hand went to pick at frost underneath her nails.

"What would you do?" She asked after a stint of silence between them. Her light blue eyes were forcibly torn away from her nails to him. "If you left, what would you do?"

Boomer rubbed at the back of his neck as he pondered over the question.

 _What would he do? What was he even good at?_

"I guess… I guess I would like to draw," he said hesitantly, recalling his conversation with Robin in White Kitty over a month ago. "Try and be a comic book artist." Boomer smiled faintly at the imagined future he illustrated in his head. "Maybe make my own indie comic book series or work on something big like a _Superman_ or the _Justice Friends_ comic… _If I'm lucky enough to_ , that is," he added in to stop himself from getting too attached to a future that was bleakly not attainable.

"You could do it," Bubbles simply responded.

"You think so?" Boomer questioned with genuine interest. Bubbles' opinion meant a lot to him for obvious reasons.

Blonde curls moved to nod in assurance. "Of course. I love your art. I have two of your sketches hung up in my room—"

Boomer's eyes widened, "You do?"

"Yeah."

"Which ones?" Boomer found himself saying due to his curiosity getting the best of him.

"You remember the nature unit we did in art class your junior year and how you hated every piece, so you gave them to me afterward to throw away?" Boomer nodded once. "I kept the one you did of the wild daisies and the one of the sparrow in its nest."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows, "You kept those ones? They were _so_ roughly drawn and—"

"I think they're beautiful," Bubbles had cut in softly, meeting his eyes like a laser, and shutting Boomer up immediately. "And they're a Boomer Hardly original. Nothing is going to make me dislike them."

"Okay then," Boomer grinned, lifting up his arms to signal no harm. His brief spout of confidence brought by her compliment, had been quickly dispelled from the lingering storm in Bubbles' eyes. Boomer felt his throat hitch, but forced himself to go on. "...You still wouldn't have any ideas on what you would do?"

Bubbles shook her head slowly, "Maybe…" her face fell sharply. "Maybe Mike's offer was my only opportunity."

"What…" Boomer swallowed the mammoth sized lump in his throat. His eyes burned from the caged up emotions he had to corral. But Boomer had to be a good friend. _And good friends help others' feel better about break ups_ , Boomer heard ring in his head along with a foghorn that almost made it inaudible. "What is Mike like?" He forced out quietly and faintly smiling to display Boomer only meant well by his inquiry.

It was a better question than telling her things would be fine. That she could have a future with Mike once they had everything figured. Boomer did not want to make promises on something he had not an ounce of assurance about. Instead, he rather have her reminisce. Think of the positives from the relationship.

To focus on her love for Mike and not the recent decaying of their coupledom.

Bubbles took a good moment to collect the right words and phrases to describe Mike. Her eyes clearly lighting up from getting to access pleasant thoughts about Mike. It was an arrow shot straight into Boomer's chest but he rather be overshadowed by Bubbles' radiant spirit than anything else.

"He's adorable," Bubbles concluded after some thought. An affectionate grin tugged on her lips in a way that only happens when someone spoke about another they loved dearly. "A bit awkward yet charming. A big softie and wears his heart on his sleeve no matter what. He could tell you a random fact about the ocean and marine life at the whim of any moment. You could say, he is a beautiful cinnamon roll too good for this world, too pure."

Boomer laughed a bit too hard at her reference. The ache in his chest never subsided but Boomer did like what he heard. Mike sounded like a good guy. Someone who could make Bubbles happy—given different circumstances they were not currently under at the moment—and that was all Boomer could want for her.

"He sounds like a dreamboat," Boomer stifled through a laugh despite cringing so hard on the inside. _Yeah, this is a new low for you_ , Boomer had to admit.

Bubbles giggled at his comment, "If you say so. If I'm quite honest, he kind of reminds me of—" Bubbles did not finish her sentence, catching herself from letting it slide off her tongue as her brain had stepped in to make sure of it. Her eyes went a bit wide as Bubbles shut her mouth. It was a reaction Boomer did not catch.

"Of who?" He asked, his eyebrows raised from the interest as to why she stopped herself mid-sentence.

Bubbles shook her head, gliding over to the nearest break from the rink on the path they were on. "It's not important," she brushed off, glancing over her shoulder to see if Boomer followed her—he did. "I'm going to go get some cosmic nachos. Can you wait here for me?"

"Yeah sure," Boomer responded despite the gigantic question mark floating over his head.

"Cool, cool," Bubbles nodded before skating over in the direction of the very rundown snack bar.

Boomer found himself waiting by the break Bubbles and him exited from. His arms were crossed and laid against the top of the short wall that fenced around the actual skating rink. Boomer leaned forward to have the edge of the wall hit him at his mid-stomach range. The arcade was behind him and the familiar sound of _PacMan_ feasting echoed in his ears. His ocean blue eyes were lost in the current flow of skaters whipping by him.

"Boomer, hey!"

Boomer glanced over to his left, finding Brute was gliding over to him. She stopped about a foot before him, flashing a friendly and well meaning smile.

"Hey, Brute," Boomer greeted back with a bit of hesitation. This was not exactly how he thought Brute would approach him—in fact, Boomer figured they would have to chase and tire her down the entire time just to get five words in at all.

"What's with that surprised look you got?" She inquired, a dark eyebrow raised as she mimicked his standing and posture. A few beads of sweat coated her forehead and her Afro was more voluminous than the last time Boomer saw her.

Boomer made the clear intention to wipe away any display of shock from his face while he answered her. "Oh, um," he darted his eyes away from her out of nervousness. "I, uh, was under the impression you, um, hated me—well, not just me. But, uh, you know what I mean? Things didn't exactly end so greatly the last time—"

"No, you're right," Brute laughed off a little. A sheepish smile tugged on her full lips. "I wasn't totally kind with my word choice and how I said them. And truth be told, I thought I would feel that way to this day, but," Brute let out a sigh that Boomer could detect was carried over from a monumental amount of pain kept below the surface. "I needed time to myself. Time to attempt to mourn and heal. To be able to function somewhat without breaking down randomly or wanting to eat all the _Doritos Tacos_ available at the nearest _Taco Bell_." Brute kept up her sheepish grin, "I'm an emotional eater," she added to help her case.

"Me too," Boomer admitted with a quick laugh. "I'm glad though." He met her gaze. "I'm glad you're dealing with things at your own pace," he inputted genuinely.

Brute nodded at him once, "Thanks, I appreciate it." Her hazel eyes drifted over to a corner of the rink, where Princess happened to be engaged in a conversation with Buttercup. "I don't think I could ever repay Princess for how patient she has been with me. I don't care what anyone says, I've seen the real her, and that girl is a saint underneath it all."

Boomer gave her an unsure expression, the memories of Princess' immature behavior in high school played over in his mind. "Well I'm also glad you have her," he said.

"Me too," Brute grinned widely through a starry-eyed gaze. "It's why we're here." She lifted her hand to gesture around the skating rink. "Princess wanted to cheer me up and she knew I had this dream date of getting to roller skating with my girlfriend."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows, unable to hide his amusement, "Roller skating?"

Brute rolled her eyes, groaning, "I think it's cute and retro. Hell, I don't see why _more_ people don't want to go roller skating for their dates."

" _Right_ ," Boomer snickered quietly to himself, gaining an elbow to his side from Brute.

Brute shook her head at him, focusing back on the rink in front of him. Her hazel eyes went to one sight in particular, with Boomer doing the same.

Blossom and Brick were adjacent to them at the other break across the rink. Her hands were entangled behind his neck while his' were kept on the small of her back. She kept giving him butterfly kisses, interrupting him from fully finishing a sentence Brick had not fully given up on yet. Both were smiling magnetically.

"Usually I would find PDA like that off-putting but with them, it's different," Brute commented. "It's probably because they're—"

"Dangerously inbound," Boomer finished off, not realizing he spoke out loudly. He came to find out he _had_ , in fact, said those two words for Brute to hear when she gave him an incredibly perplexed look.

"I was going to say cute."

Boomer rubbed at his neck awkwardly, "What I, um, mean is that there's so many forces working against them being together, that it's, uh, nice to see them being able to overcome it and be with each other."

"You got a point," Brute agreed after a beat as Boomer let out a breath of relief. "They're so damn lucky though. A forbidden romance yet they get to be affection with each other so publicly. I wish Princess and I could be like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Princess and I are basically a secret from everyone but your friends," Brute confessed bleakly. "She doesn't want her dad to know and I don't want to force her to do anything she isn't comfortable with."

Boomer's eyes flew over to Buttercup, "That's why Buttercup is here."

"Yup," Brute popped. "She's here to make sure Princess and I seem more like _gal pals_ than girlfriends if anyone we knew showed up."

"Like anyone would come here," Boomer puffed out in disbelief.

Brute eyed him suspiciously, "You and your friends did."

" _Right_ ," Boomer croaked out, scratching at his arm nervously. "I guess you do have a point after all."

"Mmmhhhh. I suppose so."

Boomer fidgeted under her critical eye, hoping to divert the conversation somewhere else. His eyes landed on Princess across the way.

"So uh," Boomer cleared his throat, attempting to sound confident and not terrified of Brute calling him out on his bullshit. "You don't seem to be totally in love with the 'no public affection' policy that you and Princess have going on."

"Of course I'm not," Brute snorted, shaking her head. "Have you seen her? It's so damn hard not trying to kiss her whenever I want." Boomer, who did not share the want at all or ever would, nodded his head along in understanding to what she was saying. "But I don't want to get her in trouble."

"But what about later? You can't have a relationship last by being a secret," Boomer pondered.

"Yeah, I know, but Princess has repeated we shouldn't focus on that until _everything_ is over," Brute responded, her voice growing low from acknowledging their present danger. "I know better than that though. The whole ' _let's wait until everything is over_ ' is just a good excuse to avoid a conversation no one wants to have right now."

Boomer blinked at her, realizing she had a good point. How many times has he convinced himself, or the others have done the same for themselves, to put off heavy conversations and decisions for the sake of avoiding it? How easy has it become to simply blame their current situation for it instead?

 _Way too many times_ , Boomer concluded.

"But maybe it's better to live in ignorance," Brute continued. "Makes the days go by easier." Brute gave Boomer a once over, "That's why I like you the best out of the guys, Boomer."

Boomer widened his eyes in surprise. He was caught off guard by her revelation simply because Brute has never given Boomer the impression she favored him over anyone else at all until now.

"You do?" He questioned, followed by a, " _Why_?"

"We're similar. We both know it's better to be safe than sorry. We protect our feelings by avoiding hard topics and don't ever try to engage in reckless behavior. When you were the only one who vocalized not to go through with the…" Boomer heard Brute's breath hitch. Her voice grew in obvious emotion, "With the Halloween plan, I knew you– _you_ were the only one with your head screwed on right." Her hazel eyes were heavy with glassy tears and she chewed on her bottom lip a little to stop them from falling down her cheeks. "And maybe, just maybe, if we had listened to you, Brat—Maybe she would…"

Brute did not finish her sentence. And she did not need to.

Boomer put his arm around her, pulling Brute into a side hug. The tightly coiled curls of her Afro tickled at his chin as he felt a sickness take control of him.

The world seemed to have stopped on its axis, pausing only for a moment before revolving in the opposite direction and then whipping around furiously to go back in the correct direction without giving anyone a warning or a chance to recover. It left Boomer weightless and lacking in the ability to grasp a steady breath.

 _He could not do this._

He had could not use Brute when she emotional. This was the perfect opportunity to tell her things were different—He was in charge, they had to listen to him now. Yet Boomer could not even bother to fight against the lump in his throat.

There was no way he could do this.

He could not be the leader. Not when he had to overstep the morals Boomer carried. Finding someone's weakness for his advantage was not Boomer. His plan to convince the girls to rejoin, was not him.

None of this was.

The foghorn berated him. The sinking feeling of incompetence settled into his body, bearing down in his churning stomach and driving a hole into his chest. He was a fool. A fool to think he could do any of this. To believe he had the guts that it took to be a leader.

It was clear with how Blossom took control of handling Ms. Bellum's when asking for help. To how Blossom kept the secret of her note and it's contents from him—and still has. How Brick found a fault in his plan already. To how Boomer could not _even_ go through with a plan he had came up with.

He should not be the leader. The seam of confidence Boomer had sewn together for himself was unraveling and he had no way of knowing how to fix it. The hiccups, they were suffocating him to the point Boomer could no longer work through them. They were grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and were antagonizing him for ever believing he could make a change.

Boomer was back in his high school cafeteria, painfully watching Blossom grow sick as he was too paralyzed to do anything. He was back to being the small kid who sat defenseless while being picked on by three relentless bullies. Boomer was still that person. Nothing has changed. And based on today, it felt like nothing ever will.

Boomer felt Brute move, untangling herself from him and giving a smile to display that no harm was done to her. She was unaware of how much this interaction between them had done great harm to him instead. Boomer nodded, shifting his weight and following the direction of pretending he was fine.

It was clear to Boomer now that he was way in too deep.

* * *

Boomer may have eaten his feelings after interacting with Brute. Bubbles had returned to his side with a plate full of tortilla chips covered in plastic cheese, dry grounded meat—which, he could assume was not _only_ meat from a cow—and pickled jalapeño slices. She merely picked at it, eating pieces of chips that did not have meat on them while Boomer could not help himself. Through a passive conversation, Boomer smiled, he laughed, and came back with adequate responses for Bubbles to not guess his mind was somewhere else.

He could only focus on two things: gorging out on the nachos Bubbles bought; and what he should do next. After Brute, Boomer felt his brain brew a heavy mist. Despite the skating rink being spacious, Boomer could not shake the feeling of being claustrophobic. When someone skated by, whispering to their friend, Boomer could not help from questioning if they were talking about him. There were a million of eyes focused on him, examining and picking apart each and every fault he could ever have, displaying it all to the world simply for the amusement it could bring.

His chest felt like it was being ripped open by the sheer force of someone's hands. His heart picked up in speed, accelerating in a dangerous pace. His knees were growing weak and the longer he stood, the more Boomer feared he would crumble to the dirty ground of the skating rink.

It was all _too_ familiar to him. The physical betrayal of his body following direct orders from his mind.

Tears were brimming in his eyes but Boomer fought back, forcing a smile to Bubbles as she laughed at a joke she had told. When she met his eyes, Boomer feared she could see it. That Bubbles would be able to see him falling apart so rapidly and steadily. For a moment, it seemed that way. Her light blue eyes faltered, a reflection of worry pooling in them. Her lips turned downward. Bubbles moved her lips to say something, struggling to get them off of the tip of her tongue.

But Boomer stopped her.

"I'm going to get something else to eat," Boomer pitched out slowly, keeping his breathing subdue to make sure he was not hyperventilating through his words. His voice was shaky and unsure.

Boomer did not wait for her to reply, instead zipping past her on his roller skates and towards the snack bar, hoping the air over there would be less stale. Ocean blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, trying to see if Bubbles was watching him—yes, she was—and then went to search for a blind spot from her gaze. Boomer found it by a booth hidden on the left side of the snack bar. He sank into the peeling pleather seating, burying his head into his hands. His chest moved viciously, tormenting his ribs into his skin.

Boomer knew he was shaking. There was no way of stopping it. Those tears that he fought against were rallying back for round two and Boomer was close to waving his white flag.

"Boom?"

It took all of the possible strength in his body for Boomer to lift his head up. His blurry vision was directed to ruby-colored eyes burning with concern.

"What's wrong?" Brick followed immediately, angling his body to cut off Boomer from the rest of the rink. There was no need to fixate on prying eyes or eavesdroppers Boomer could not see anymore. All Boomer had to focus on, was Brick.

Boomer choked on his pain-stricken throat, too paralyzed to be able to vocalize anything. Uneasy and uneven breaths came and went out of his mouth, almost to the point of wheezing.

"Give me a moment," Brick said solemnly.

He stepped away, leaving Boomer to feel naked and exposed to the rest of the skating rink until Brick came back. When Brick did, he had a large paper cup in hand.

"Drink."

Boomer reached for the cup in Brick's hand, shaking and spattering some droplets onto Brick, the table, the ground and himself. Boomer put both of his hands around the cup, taking a sip of the sharpest, coolest drink of water he has ever had in his life. He felt the rush of it flow through his chest as his throat became a bit less restrictive. By the time Boomer could not drink anymore, there were barely two sips left in the cup.

Brick watched him attentively, "Better?"

Boomer nodded once slowly. "Little," he murmured.

His rib cage was tight and Boomer could feel his heartbeat pulsate in every inch of his body.

"Do you want to talk? If you can?" Brick questioned, rubbing at his neck a bit awkwardly.

Boomer found his head shaking 'no' in response, surprising himself. "I don't… I can't do this," he confessed through his hoarse tone. "I can't—they shouldn't—it's not me—I can't, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not good enough—"

Boomer was cut off by Brick placing a hand on his shoulder. There was a certain kindness in his eyes that was not too accustomed to. "It's okay," Brick said gently. He nudged his head in the direction of the skating rink. "I'll go get the girls and we can leave."

"But what about—"

"Boom, I'm more concerned about you than any of this," Brick interjected bluntly with no cushion attached to it. "We're leaving and we'll figure out something tomorrow. Alright?"

 _Can't even be man enough to follow through with YOUR own plan, huh? Such a failure_ , Boomer heard burned into his brain as he nodded once at Brick's decision.

"Okay."

* * *

 _November 23rd_

 _Townsville, Arizona_

 _Present Day…_

It was dusk by the time they left the skating rink. Neither Blossom and Bubbles questioned why they were leaving but from the sympathetic looks they both gave him on the way to his car, Boomer could only assume Brick shared a few reasons to them.

As the golden hour peeled over into a dusty sky of purple and blue, Blossom and Brick were in the backseat. Her head rested on his chest once again. They both were giving their attention to something on her phone. Blossom tapped against the screen in a quick pace. Bubbles took control of the music again but, to Boomer's much notice, played songs he enjoyed more than anything. Boomer was keeping his eyes strictly on the road to avoid falling apart at the seams.

His brain has not been the kindest for the last hour or so. His thoughts were the archer, and he was the prey who was following into every trap laid possible.

 _How could I get out?_ Boomer asked himself, not quite sure what he was trying desperately to get out of.

His duties?

Townsville?

His life?

He tore his eyes away from the vacant road ahead of him, glancing at his company. Boomer wondered if they could see through him. If they could see the doubts and insecurities seeping into him. If they cared enough about him to help or were they doing it because it was the right thing to do. Were they truly friends or people who were unlucky enough to be forcibly lumped together? Did they see the paranoia drowning him alive? The current of invisible water ripping through his throat and choking him into submission. Did they see it too? Because Boomer saw it. It was all he has seen since leaving the skating rink.

"I think you made the right decision," Bubbles stated quietly to him after noticing one of his quick glances over the car.

Boomer sank into his car seat, surprising himself with the fact he could not hide from Bubbles' soft stare despite wanting nothing but to.

"I don't think so," he mumbled.

"They're our friends," Bubbles explained as if it was the answer to every single question in the world. "I didn't want to do it either. It's not worth losing them over. We already lost enough…"

Boomer glanced back to Blossom and Brick, checking to see if they invited themselves into their conversation. He found them still consumed by Blossom's phone. Brick was whispering in her ear and did not appear particularly happy about something.

A puncture wound in Boomer's back that has been there since Halloween throbbed, reminding him of the _very lost_ Bubbles was referring to.

Boomer did not say anything to her. His lips were in a firm line, wanting to pretend he was okay when, in fact, he was not. To convey Butch's betrayal did not affect Boomer so much since it did not have the same effect on Butch. He had to move on. Boomer always had to move on from those who left him. His mom, his biological dad; Butch was simply another person Boomer had to move on from now.

But Boomer was _so_ damn tired of pretending Butch did not hurt him. Who needed enemies when Boomer had a friend like Butch?

"Losing Butch has been hard on you," Bubbles pointed out, reading his thoughts with ease. "No matter what you say, I can tell it has."

"I—"

Boomer opened his mouth, itching at the move to be dishonest. To brush past the subject Bubbles was correct to assume. But to lie to Bubbles? Boomer could not stomach it anymore.

His hands gripped on the steering wheel tightly, a heavy breath escaped his lips. His eyes were warm from the pure exhaustion he felt from every emotion coursing through his body.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to feel," he confessed in a vulnerable whisper. "He—he was my best friend, but I _hate_ him yet I _miss_ him too…" Boomer inhaled harshly, then exhaled a shaky breeze of hot air. "It's—it's hard to figure out where my head is at."

Bubbles nodded in understanding. "He hasn't been fair to you, Boom."

Boomer snorted, his eyes growing darker for a moment. "Yeah, the knife he wedged into my back was totally fair game, wasn't it?" He remarked bitingly. Once Boomer heard how nasty he sounded, shame crept into his system. "God, I'm being so bitter."

"You have the right to be," Bubbles replied gently with a shrug. "It's how you feel."

"But do I deserve to be?" She did not have an answer for his question, sitting back into her seat quietly and blinking at him, leading for Boomer to go on. "It's no wonder Butch never cared about our friendship. As long as he had Berserk, none of us mattered anymore. Friendship, I'm beginning to see, doesn't mean as much as I thought it did."

"That's a sad thing to say," Bubbles frowned.

"Doesn't change what I said though."

"I think it should," she challenged, a slight edge to her voice as Bubbles grew defiant. "I don't know if you forgot or not, but _our_ friendship saved me the other day, Boomer. I wouldn't have realized how frozen I became until _you_ helped me melt it away."

Boomer did not say anything. Half of him wished Bubbles did not say such things to him. To make him believe he could do good, was only going to misplace more confidence into him. The other half was grateful to know he had been able to truly help Bubbles when she needed it.

"And then today," Bubbles continued. "Today when Mike has been texting me way too many times to attempt to fix our relationship and I haven't exactly been too kind to myself because I broke his heart with no explanation—and because I still briefly slip into a pretty dark place half of the time. Do you know the one thing that kept me together today? _It was you_. Getting to hang out with you like old times. Getting you to smile and laugh instead of being trapped in that head of your's. It was one of the best days I've had since everything happened, and that's because of you and how much _our_ friendship means to me. So don't you dare say friendship doesn't mean anything, Boomer, because to the right people, it means way more than you would ever realize."

It was then when it finally clicked for him.

Boomer glanced over at Bubbles for a brief moment, seeing a person who needed a friend more than anything. Then there was him, who needed the exact same thing. There were no flinching or a tight knot in his chest from the word ' _friends_ ' being used for them because Boomer now understood. Being friends was the greatest relationship he and Bubbles could ever have. No matter what could happen in the future, their friendship was the foundation of everything between them and was always going to be there to stand the test of time.

For the first time since his conversation with Brute, Boomer flashed a smile. It was electrifying and genuine, hurting his cheeks just the slightest bit too. Bubbles' and their friendship had this affect on him, and Boomer was happy to not be _so_ sidetracked from it anymore.

"You're right, Bubs," Boomer said softly to her. He glanced over in her direction once again as he approached a red light. "I was completely wrong."

"I'm glad you've realized that," she responded, smiling back at him—but her's was a bit more timid.

Boomer gave her a once over, nodding one time, "It's nice to have a friend like you."

A honk from the car behind him and the realization the light turned green, moved Boomer to tear his eyes away from Bubbles. An action in which prevented him from seeing a subtle yet unreadable change in Bubbles' expression at his words.

* * *

"I don't think my plan is going to work out. _Like at all_ ," Boomer babbled out.

They had gotten back to Brick's about twenty minutes ago—with Bubbles leaving immediately to get some sleep before having a morning shift at Otto's tomorrow—and Boomer was an unraveling mess the second they enter the home. Words were flying out of his mouth and Boomer was pretty sure he was thriving purely on nothing but his anxious instincts.

"Brick already found a fault in it," Boomer moved his hand to gesture in Brick's direction. Brick and Blossom both stared at Boomer with a wide-eyed gaze, as if he was a car crash happening right before them and neither could look away. "I wasn't able to fix it today. I had the perfect opportunity but I blew it. I blew it because I couldn't be a leader who can make hard decisions."

"Like today in Ms. Bellum's office, Blossom, you took command of everything," Boomer pointed at her now. "You're a natural leader. I'm," Boomer took his finger and stabbed at his pounding chest. "I'm just a fraud. A fake trying to do what I was told to do. And I don't want to disappoint any of you. But I know who I am. I know I'm a disappointment. I'm not good enough at this."

His hands went to pull on the roots of his hair, tugging roughly, " _Why_? Why did I say yes to this? Why did I think things would be different? I crack under pressure so easily. Things were supposed to work out for me. I told myself to do better, but I'm not better. I don't think I can do better."

Boomer waited for a response from either Blossom or Brick or both, but they remained quiet. Both were unsure if Boomer was truly giving them a moment to speak or if he was simply pausing in his stress fueled ramble. When the awkward silence extended way too long, Blossom took the initiative, moving a half step forward towards Boomer.

"Boom, this is all natural," she said smoothly. "You've only been leading us for a week and a half. Things aren't going to change over night for you. You're not going to stop overthinking just because you decided not to anymore. It's a matter of taking deep breaths and taking the time to sort out what is the truth and what is only your mind getting the better of you."

"But does that make _me_ right to be a leader?" Boomer questioned. "I'm a liability. Who knows if I can get it together long enough to save everyone?"

"Blossom is right," Brick pitched in quickly, dismissing Boomer's obvious self-doubt and earning a small smile from Blossom. "You have yet to disappoint either of us and I'm one hundred percent sure you wouldn't ever disappoint us. We have faith in you. _Look at what you did with Bubbles_. You took charge and saved her while Blossom and I had no idea what to possibly do. In that moment, you showed just how capable of a leader you are."

"So right now, you can have your freak out. It's perfectly fine," Blossom reassured. "By tomorrow, it will be different and this will all blow over…" she trailed off, glancing down at her phone due to an incoming text message. She showed the screen to Brick, whose jaw tightened in response. Rose-colored eyes then moved to meet Boomer's, taking in if he has calmed down or not. "And you're going to be okay."

Boomer heaved in heavy breaths through his aching chest. His body was still buzzing from the rush of doubts and emotions he expunged through his word vomit to Blossom and Brick. Of course they had a way to put his mind at semi-ease. They waved a magical wand over Boomer, acting as his own personal Fairy Godmothers of stress, subduing his worries for a momentary amount of time.

Buttercup's description of hiccups race through his mind. His doubt… it was just a spell of hiccups, Boomer told himself. A patch in which claimed him victim and disturbed his peace for way too long of a length of time today but Boomer realized he needed this fumble. He needed to be made aware of the checkpoint in his progress of living with anxiety. Today, Boomer had let it take control but like Blossom said, tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow, Boomer was going to continue trying to keep up with his anxiety and not let it outpace him. That was the promise Boomer made to himself to break free from his second-guessing for the night.

Boomer nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. I–I think so."

"Good," Blossom said distractedly, tapping on her phone. She then glanced up at him, her lips pursing before speaking in a quiet manner. "One more thing for today." Blossom shoved her phone into the pocket of her shorts, moving towards the front door of Brick's home. "We have a problem with our numbers, right?"

Boomer arched an eyebrow, conveying obvious confusion on his face. He darted his eyes from an unreadable Brick to a nervous Blossom. There was the sound of a car door shutting heard from outside of the home. His stomach churned from an indescribable sick feeling. " _Yeah_? That was the whole point of the busted skating rink trip."

" _Right_ ," Blossom said in a shaky breath. Her hand reached for the door knob behind her. She kept eye contact with Boomer, a clear _sorry_ was read from him but Boomer did not know what Blossom was apologetic about. "Well, I sort of have a way to fix that."

And then she opened the door and Boomer felt the entire air of the home dramatically shift.

Hot pink eyes looked at him and his shocked nature in amusement. Her arms were crossed as a muscular one from another was draped along her slender shoulders. Emerald green eyes instantly caught Boomer's attention, followed by the smirk on their face.

"I heard I was needed to kick some demon ass," Butch quipped, arching an eyebrow. "So where should we begin?"


End file.
